Winter Warriors

by Denise A. Agnew

  Destiny smirked as she brought up the rear. She could have insulted his masculine arrogance. Instead she kept her mouth shut. How could she forget the blazing look in his eyes as he’d brought her to a spine-melting orgasm? Even if he hadn’t slept with half the women in SIA, the press she’d heard about his sexual prowess wasn’t exaggerated. His very hard, very large, ready-for-action cock had been prepared for her. She gritted her teeth against the frustration.

  Mac Tudor’s strength of character and disturbing tenderness threatened to change everything she believed about him. More than anything, she feared the unbelievable ecstasy she’d enjoyed under his touch would blind her to the mission if she didn’t concentrate.

  Professionalism took over, and she went into agent overdrive. “Lead on, MacDuff.”

  Mac didn’t comment as he stuck his head into the corridor. “Clear.”

  The wide corridor, harsh with fluorescent light, made her eyes ache for a moment.

  Another harsh scream filled the corridor, and Destiny whirled. Back to back, they waited for the long, drawn out wail to stop.

  Mac cursed. “That doesn’t sound quite…human.”

  She laughed, the sound weak and uncertain.

  He grunted. “I didn’t say it wasn’t human, I said it didn’t sound like it.”

  She turned back toward him. “And your point is?”

  He kept his keen gaze pinpointed on the far end of the hall that went deep in to the interior of building. “I didn’t have time to check out the map Jordan suggested we look at.”

  “I’ve looked at it. This building gives meaning to the word complex all right. Three floors, just as Quinton said. But this place is roughly the length of four football fields. Quinton’s report on size was just a teensy bit off.”

  “Remind me to make some scathing comment on intelligence-gathering when I see him,” he said dryly.

  She smiled. “He’ll blame it on the satellite drivers.”

  “Hmmm…” He sounded distracted now. “The scream sounded nearby. It might have been Jordan.”

  At the mention of the name, Destiny felt a hint of annoyance. “I don’t think I trust her.”

  His head snapped around and his gaze sharpened like a laser beam. “Why?”

  “I haven’t decided why yet. She’s not trustworthy, that’s all I know.”

  He shrugged his shoulders, as if trying to remove a burden. “Now is not the time for subtleties. If you know something solid against her, tell me. Otherwise—”

  “Keep my mouth shut.” Sarcasm rose up inside her, and then tension made her spill. “Maybe her ass is too pert, her hair is too blonde, and her bust is too big. God almighty, I don’t know, Mac. We’ve got a job to do. It sounds like someone is being murdered and we’re standing around talking about Blondie.”

  He looked too angry to even form one word.

  “Never mind. Forget I said anything,” she said.

  He turned his full attention on her. “Is this some type of female-speak I’m supposed to decipher?”

  Realizing she’d screwed the pooch and distracted them from the crisis at hand, and without glancing in his direction, she started down the hallway toward the front of the complex. “Come on. I think those screams came from this direction.”

  Her pace picked up as she reached the first turn, her muscles tensing as she readied for a possible confrontation. Whatever they found around the next bend, it couldn’t be good.

  He passed her, his longer legs eating up ground as he quickened his steps.

  When they came to the turn they slowed.

  “Damn it,” he said.

  “What do you see?”

  “Blood.”

  She took a deep breath. “Is that bloodbath or specks?”

  He surveyed the hallways, then motioned her forward. “There’s blood near the center of the right corridor. A lot of it.”

  She peaked around the corner and saw bloody footprints leading from a guest quarters doorway. Blotches of red dotted the wall down the hallway away from them.

  With caution they neared the doorway.

  Destiny came to a stop and indicated the blotches. She leaned in to get a better view. “Looks like palm and fingerprints on the left.” She squinted. “There’s something strange about them.”

  Mac leaned in and assessed the marks. “Those are the biggest fingerprints I’ve ever seen.” He placed his hand near one of the prints for comparison. “I’ve got large hands, but this son-of-a-bitch is four times that size.”

  Destiny turned a disbelieving glance on her partner. “So we’re looking for a football or basketball player with hands big enough to cover two dinner plates?”

  “Or maybe an orangutan.”

  She shook her head. “Well, it wouldn’t surprise me if they had monkeys or apes in here for experimentation.”

  “Shades of the Rue Morgue.”

  His reference to the Edgar Allen Poe’s story made the hair stand up on the back of her neck. She’d never liked horror novels, maybe because she’d dealt with some harsh realities in real life and didn’t need manufactured terror in her entertainment.

  “The person who made those footprints also has some sort of hand deformity. Their footprints look like about a size-eight women’s shoe. How many women do you know with hands like that?” she asked.

  “No one,” he said.

  After a second she asked, “Would you rather tangle with a muscle-bound monkey or a huge human?”

  Mac’s eyes sparked with momentary humor. “I think the primate would be my villain of choice.”

  She pursed her lips and said dead pan, “Yes, but you have to be smarter than the monkey to begin with.”

  He made a soft growling noise. “Stop while you’re ahead, woman.”

  “My name is Destiny. Not woman.”

  His gaze slid over her with a flashover heat. “You’re definitely a woman. Every inch of you. Now let’s get back to business, or later I’ll put you over my knee.”

  Rising to the bait, she winked. “Promises, promises.”

  “It’s a deal then. Later your ass is mine.” Another flash of reluctant humor passed through his face, but he returned his attention to the blood. “Let’s see if we can find the owner of this mess.”

  They continued the reconnaissance, but the blood trail came to a stop at the end of the hall.

  “Let’s split up and search everyone’s quarters,” she said. “There’s a set beyond ours down this hallway, according to the map.”

  “No way are we splitting up.”

  Her head snapped up and she caught his hard gaze. “Why?”

  “If there is a murderous primate running around, we should be together.”

  “I can protect myself.”

  He sighed. “I know that. But in case you haven’t heard, primates like gorillas are a hell of a lot stronger than a man.”

  “I can shoot it.”

  “What if it attacks you before you can get a bead on it?”

  “Don’t you think if it was a big primate we’d hear something? They don’t exactly have stealth, you know. We’d hear animal noises.” Mac glowered at her, and when he remained silent, she said the first thing that came to mind. “Oh, I see. You want my protection.”

  A hard frown molded his mouth. “Damn it to hell, Tremayne, what I really want is for you to fuck me. But I’m not letting that get in the way of this mission. Can you pay attention to the problem at hand and quit trying to joke your way out of a situation?”

  Shame boiled inside her like hot oil. Resentment slipped in around the edges because she was out of control around him and loaded for bear. Shame claimed Destiny because she knew he was right. Part of her wanted to apologize for her lack of professionalism. Exhilaration roiled inside her because she craved the hard, screaming coupling he suggested.

  Damn it, girl, can you just forget for a moment that he wants to screw you seven ways to Sunday?

  She took a deep breath and steadied her voice. “Fine. Then w
e’ll search the rooms together. Let’s move.”

  They retreated to the quarters for staff area. Each room, with the exception of theirs, featured a label with the occupant’s name attached to the door. One by one, they checked each suite of rooms and no one answered. As they came to the last door at the end of the hallway, they saw more blood spatter, almost too small to see. A larger splash of blood marred the floor in front of the doorway.

  “God, will you look at that?” Mac asked.

  “And the door is ajar.”

  He nodded toward the label on the door. “Mitzi McArthur lives here. Whoever that is.”

  They set up on either side of the entrance, and to her surprise, he didn’t balk when she took lead position. She called out, “Is anyone in there?”

  After silence greeted them, she nodded and took aim at the door. When she kicked it open she saw ruby splashes everywhere.

  Crimson red dotted and splotched the area as far as the eye could see. A mangled body was spread-eagle on the floor near the bed.

  “Shit, oh dear,” she said.

  Silent, Mac moved into the room and stared at remains of the young woman sprawled in a bloody mass. Her throat had been slashed and her chest cavity ripped open.

  “What the fuck did this?” Mac’s voice went rough with repulsion.

  “It looks like…” Her throat tightened as she viewed the gore. “It looks like her heart is missing.”

  “What?”

  “Her heart is missing.” Destiny fixated on the carnage and tried to recall if she’d ever seen this type of destruction wrought on a person’s body before. “Like something made a meal of it.”

  He lowered his weapon. “Murderous orangutan doesn’t cover this. Unless primates now eat human hearts as appetizers.”

  “If the heart is the appetizer, what’s the main course?”

  Silence came over them, bizarreness obliterating all sense of reality.

  Mac cleared her throat. “So the owner of the footprints and huge handprints killed this woman.”

  Her nerves went into agent-on-alert overdrive. “Looks like it.”

  He clasped her upper arm and urged her toward the door. “We’ve got to warn the others.”

  As they left the room, Destiny feared the worst. Whoever or whatever murdered the hapless Ms. McArthur no doubt lurked in the building right now. Tension crept upward through her back muscles, and she realized her spring-loaded attitude made things worse. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so worked up and ready to jump.

  Male voices, harsh with argument, echoed into the passageway near the kitchen and dining area. They stowed their weapons under their sweaters and in their waistbands.

  They headed for the kitchen, and when they stepped inside, they found Henrick and Xander swabbing the floor with mops.

  Henrick stiffened when he saw them, his body as rigid as an outraged ostrich. “What are you doing here?”

  “Did you hear anything weird just a moment ago?” Destiny moved farther into the room and glanced around. “We heard a horrible scream.”

  Xander, dressed in a white clean suit minus the hood, said, “Yeah, we heard it.”

  She decided too much subtlety would come across as the female speak Mac referred to earlier. “It sounded like someone was being killed.”

  “We were going to search the complex.” Henrick’s frown said he didn’t want to include them.

  Xander glared at his compatriot. “We were arguing about it. I said we should stay put.”

  Henrick stepped toward Xander, his stance menacing. “We can’t let this go on. We’ve got to do something once and for all.”

  “Shut up.” Xander gritted each word between his teeth. “You’re going to make these people think we’re running around cutting people into little ribbons.”

  As soon as the words came out of the man’s mouth, his face burned red with either fury or embarrassment.

  Mac put one hand up. “Just hold everything. We’re way beyond investigating the scream. Cora and I found the victim. She’s in a room marked Mitzi McArthur.”

  “What?” Henrick’s face fell. Fear and panic jumped into his face. “What happened to Mitzi?”

  Mac hesitated to speak for a moment, and she wondered if he detected the strangled note of worry in Henrick’s voice. After a pause of several seconds, Mac apparently decided not to baby powder the truth. He didn’t pull punches in his description of Ms. McArthur’s injuries, and Destiny couldn’t blame him. In a case of hack and slash like this, people in danger should know the blow by blow of what they might encounter.

  Henrick sat down with a thump in one of the plastic chairs near a table. His mouth hung open. Xander’s face held a cool, detached air that angered Destiny. She wanted to reach out and slap the man across the face for being so callus about the woman’s horrible death.

  Her partner’s expression softened, as if he could understand Henrick’s amazement and shock. “Sorry I had to break it to you, but whatever or whoever is out there doesn’t appear to care about subtlety. We also found strange handprints along one wall.”

  When Destiny mentioned the primate theory, Xander laughed. “You’re kidding, right? What do you think we’re growing in here? King Kong?”

  Destiny bristled and barely held her little miss wife façade in place. “No, I’m not kidding, and if you were birthing King Kong in here, I figure we’d know about it by now.”

  Henrick finally spoke. “There aren’t any primates in this facility. We don’t experiment on animals.”

  “I don’t care if it’s human, vegetable, or mineral that killed that woman, we’re all in danger.” Mac put his hands on his hips and gave Xander and Henrick a critical eye. “Whoever killed that woman needs to be stopped before we all end up disappearing.”

  “Where are the rest of the workers?” Destiny asked.

  Xander propped his mop against the dull green laminate counter. “They’re working near the center of the building in the main labs. There’s Anthony Rigoso, Arlinda Hall, and Mikhail Romanarov.”

  “Mikhail Romanarov. What does he do?” Destiny asked.

  Xander walked toward her. His eyes did inventory, raking over her with insolence.

  He looked about forty, though she couldn’t say his true age with all that hair covering his face. She’d never been fond of beards and mustaches, but even if she had, this guy didn’t inspire one iota of intrigue within Destiny. Seconds later she decided he wasn’t even close to forty; his eyes held the inexperience and apathy of a lazy twenty-something.

  Excellent. Just wonderful. A youngster too arrogant to know his head from his ass.

  Mac materialized at her side, his nearness possessive. She could almost feel tension growing inside him. Could he be jealous? Hard to believe, but the possibility gratified her a little.

  “Who is Mikhail?” Mac asked for her again.

  Xander, his expression now bored, cleared his throat. “Mikhail is a head lab technician. Hard as hell to understand. Has some sort of weird accent.”

  Henrick tossed a disgusted look at his coworker. “He’s Eastern European. His girlfriend is shacked up here, too. Her name is Catronia Torella.”

  “Why are you staying here if all these strange things are happening?” Mac asked out of the blue.

  “It’s like we told your wife here,” Xander said. “Money’s great, so we stay. It’s so great we thought about asking the foundation for more money. Hazardous pay.”

  “And yet this doctor left here in a hurry earlier today and now someone’s been murdered. We’re knee deep in alligators and you’re laissez faire about a murder.” Mac slipped his arm around Destiny’s shoulders. “You’re more concerned with making money.”

  Xander shrugged, not even bothering to look offended. “It’s not illegal.”

  With a hateful look at Xander, Henrick opened the fridge and retrieved two bottles of water. “Thirsty?”

  Destiny took a bottle and it gave her an excuse to leave Mac’s emb
race. The damnable man refused the offer of water and put his arm about her shoulders again.

  Mac looked down at her. “My wife’s safety is important to me. I’m sure you understand.”

  “We don’t know any more than you do.” Xander said. “This place has become a freaking creep show.”

  Destiny knew Xander lied. He did know something more, and she wanted to discover what. Instead she followed the party line and tried to sound more like a concerned wife than a government agent. “We should contact the authorities about the murder.”

  Mac put the cherry on top. “We need to seek out who is doing this and stop them.”

  “Awfully brave for newlyweds.” Xander’s frown stretched three meters wide if it was an inch. “I’d think you’d be in your room fucking like rabbits.”

  Destiny felt a blush of anger fill her face.

  Mac’s face darkened. “Look you—”

  “That’s enough.” Jordan walked into the room, her clear voice of authority stifling all other conversation. “What’s going on?”

  Destiny couldn’t say if she felt relief now that Jordan appeared. She could fake it, at least. Destiny smiled. “Thank goodness. We heard that horrible scream and were worried about you.”

  Tension made fine creases between Jordan’s eyebrows. “Thanks.”

  Mac saw his partner pin a hard stare on Jordan after the woman’s flat response. He knew Destiny didn’t like Jordan, and the answers she’d given to his question sounded like jealousy plain and simple. Whether it should or not, the idea Destiny might be jealous sent a slither of satisfaction through his ego.

  Mac also noticed how Jordan’s hair looked mused and her face pale. She didn’t appear like the confident woman he’d first met. The transformation made him wonder what happened to change her.

  Jordan’s expression turned brittle, her eyes hard chips. “Mitzi said she felt ill earlier and came to see me. She looked like she was coming down with flu. I sent her to her quarters. I just tried calling her after I heard the scream but the line didn’t work. Then I tried the intercom and that wouldn’t work either. I decided to come down here.”

  “Fuckin’ A,” Xander growled. “Now shit is breaking down. Just great.”

  Jordan’s frown grew larger. “Have any of you seen Mitzi?”