by Nikki Duncan
Narrowing his left eye to obscure the shifting color to come, he lowered his first shield to feel for the truth behind her coming answer. “Are you Ava Sebastian, as you claim?”
“Yes.” Her voice wavered with her lack of conviction.
Hmm. She believed her answer, even as she refuted it with disgust slightly crinkling her nose. There weren’t many reasons for her to have two identities. She’d been sent to take him out or act as a distraction while someone else came at him from another direction.
“Now.” She scooted forward and rubbed her hands together. “I get to guess your name.”
It was like a really fucked-up version of that fairy tale. He reengaged his shields for all the protection he could get and braced himself. “Go for it.”
“Is your name Hermes Vamekes? As in the young boy who was kidnapped with his twin sister at the age of eight?”
A sledgehammer to the solar plexus stole his air. Time halted as his mind reeled. He couldn’t have braced for that. Though looking back he should have.
Any fun in their game had ended. Knowing who he was meant she wasn’t just an auditor. Dana had kept their last name, but he’d hoped to keep her out of danger.
Shit.
Shit!
Chapter Nine
He didn’t blink or furrow a brow or flinch.
He didn’t smile or frown or compress his lips.
His chest didn’t rise or fall beneath the power of his breaths.
He didn’t move. He didn’t react.
Only the thump thumping of the pulse in his neck evidenced he wasn’t a statue. His lack of reaction was his confirmation to her guess.
“How do you know my name?”
She shrugged, hoping for nonchalance. “I don’t get involved with people, personally or professionally, without knowing who they are.”
“Bullshit. That is not an answer.” Powerful pauses punctuated each word. He still hadn’t moved.
She couldn’t tell him how she knew who he was without jeopardizing her cover. And Breck forbade her from making the admission. She had to maintain her guise until she’d eliminated every last threat and located the contacts if they were real. “Is it so hard to believe I have that information as an auditor?”
“Yes.” He lurched off the bed and, unaffected by his nudity, went after his shorts. His eyes narrowed a teeny fraction as he yanked the shorts on. “Empaths read emotions and feelings. They don’t read minds. They aren’t psychics.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“You’re an empath, Ava, but the gift doesn’t automatically grant you open access to my brain.”
He thought she was… She wasn’t. No. He was wrong.
“You’re saying an empath has never picked up actual thoughts and memories from someone?” She wasn’t empathic, but she’d sure as hell picked up something—thoughts or memories that weren’t hers—from him.
There was something about him. How else could he explain the intensity of their connection and reactions to each other?
Was he what he accused her of being? She’d just thought him really intuitive. Or she’d wanted to because it seemed simpler.
His gaze bored into her as if he could force a confession with a look. “You’re trying to circle this back on me, evading a direct answer, while formulating your next lie.”
“Lies?” It was ironic. A man with more secrets than a dirty politician was accusing her of withholding. Okay, so she was, but out of necessity in the moment. His entire life was built on evasions and lies.
Eh, all right. Again, so was hers. Not the point.
She stood and faced him. Almost toe to toe, the pulsing venom of his rage slithered through her. Lying to him smacked at her like the worst sort of betrayal, but she swallowed the impulse to reveal herself. “I have no need to formulate lies. I’m not the one trying to hide my past.” No need to when I obliterated it.
“Not that it’s your business, Ms. Sebastian, but my past isn’t something worth reliving. Hell, if you must know, it wasn’t worth living when it was the present.” He leaned forward, invading her space until her skin tingled. “Do yourself a favor and forget whatever you think you know about me.”
She pressed her lips together and nodded. He didn’t want to admit it, but he trusted her a little or he wouldn’t have revealed even that small insight. She would need that trust before it was all over. Whoever had shot at them earlier would be back, and they wouldn’t miss again.
She eased back and softened her shoulders to appear less confrontational. “That sounds like a painful truth.”
“You know nothing of my truths.”
The powerfully stony man from the day before was back in control. The lover she’d throbbed for was nowhere to be found.
“I know more than you think.” Not as much as she needed to know. “I’d like to hear the rest.”
And she meant it. They were doomed for a future, but she wanted to understand Dr. H., H, Hermes.
“You want answers?”
“I want the truth.” She angled her head and scrunched up her brows. “I want to know you, to help you.”
“No, Ava.” He stared into her. Not into her eyes. Into her. “You don’t want the truth. And you can’t help me.”
His stoic voice deepened with a conviction born of whatever hardships he’d endured. Hardships even her connections hadn’t been able to uncover. “You’re wrong on both counts.”
He snorted a disdainful snort. “You think you want answers from me, but deep down in places you don’t see in yourself, places you don’t want to admit exist, you know you can’t handle them.”
He turned, took three steps toward the door and froze. “You think you want to know what happened to me, where I’m from and how I came to be where I am today. You’re wrong.”
The vacancy in his voice reeked eerily of sad acceptance and broke her heart. The image of a younger Hermes with his bare, electrode-covered scalp flitted into her mind again. Agonizing shocks of electricity jolted through her as the man in her head convulsed.
She sank to the edge of the bed. Stars fractured her vision in the sudden absence of light.
The images were the same as earlier, only more vivid than any of the abysmal atrocities she’d witnessed during her career.
He didn’t tell his captors whatever they wanted to know. He didn’t crumble. He didn’t lose himself in his seemingly permanent hell. He survived and found a way out.
Ava shook clear the foreign recollections, stood on trembling legs and moved to his side. She rested her hand on his arm. He jerked back, as if the light touch was an assault he needed to defend against.
“Hermes, I know you were taken and subjected to tests no one should suffer through. I know you care deeply for Dana, and would do anything to protect her. I’m not here to put either of you in danger.”
“You know nothing about what I was subjected to.”
“I’ll listen if you want to tell.”
He shook his head, but instead of shutting down he began talking. “In the name of science, General Scott, chief of Eston White, hooked me to machines that all but wiped my long-term memories.” He drew in a ragged breath that shook his shoulders. “For a long time Dana was all I could remember.”
“How much has returned?”
“Not enough. Not the important stuff like what it was like to have a family. A home. I only have fragments of those memories.”
Shattered for the man she’d just met, seeing Breck’s reasoning for holding back even while the lies festered in her gut, Ava wrapped her arms around H and held tight.
Silence ruled the stillness. Several thumping heartbeats later the man she was becoming more curious about pulled himself free from whatever dismal chasm he’d gone into. His glacial gaze warmed.
“Never call me Hermes.”
“But—”
“My name is Dr. H or H. Never Hermes.”
“Can I ask why, specifically, it reminds you of pain and loss?
” She squeezed his arm, assuring him the best she could she was trustworthy. Was it something he remembered?
“I released the name when I was told of my parents’ death. The hope I’d clung to, dreams of a reunion… Without my mom the name she chose was too painful.”
“You have no other name you’ll accept?”
“No.”
“In other words, stick to H.”
“Yes.”
“Even in bed?”
He looked at her, long and silent, without blinking or moving beyond his breaths. When he finally spoke it was quietly. “It may not make sense to you, but I would prefer it.”
It saddened her to see how far he’d cut himself off from the name his parents had given him, but since she hadn’t lived through what he had she couldn’t really understand. Whatever had motivated Dana to keep their name, something equally strong had motivated H to let it go. “Okay.”
He stared out the window with tension bubbling around him. When he spoke, he did so quietly, with no traces of anger.
“If you’re not a threat, why are you here? Why did you show up all of a sudden asking questions about things you shouldn’t know?”
The truth clung from the tip of her tongue with the desperation of a free climber struggling to maintain his grip on a jagged cliff face in the midst of an avalanche. With the experience of practice, she pulled the rapidly slipping words to safety and met H’s questioning stare.
She was going to have to give one damn convincing performance if she hoped to seduce him to her viewpoint. And stick close to the truth in case he checked.
“Something inside of me is wired differently than in other people.” She creased her brows, conveying honesty and trustworthiness. She spoke the truth. “I don’t know what it is, but it’s always been there, making it difficult for me to maintain relationships with people.”
More like impossible. Every time she’d gotten close to anyone, she got burned. Every time she opened herself up to the possibility of love, she was slapped back. “You make me wonder if maybe I wasn’t alone. The more I learn about you and what you do… You intrigue me. And I don’t know why or how, but you make me want to understand myself better.”
“I don’t know that I can work with you, Ava. I don’t know that I can trust you to be honest.”
She pulled back, suddenly feeling more exposed than when she’d lain naked before him. Wherever her confession had come from she didn’t know, but it was solid truth. For the first time in her life she’d almost come close to pinpointing what made her different.
Loneliness washed over her in an almost-crippling surge. Her failed relationships had been because of her, but not because of anything she’d done wrong. Her inept attempts at fitting in on a team were more a result of a defense mechanism. If she stayed alone she couldn’t be hurt.
“I understand.” She’d never met anyone capable of understanding or accepting her. Until H, and she was screwing it up with her every move. Every word. She stepped back. Her hands shook at her sides and tears swelled in her throat.
“I’ll be in the living room if you need me.” He headed out, but paused at the doorway. “I want to believe you, Ava, but your evasions and secrets make it hard.”
And she wanted to tell him the truth, but she’d promised the team she would work within their parameters. This wait-and-see bullshit didn’t sit well with her style. She preferred to get in, assess the situation quickly, achieve the objective and get out.
This entire case, from the moment Whitestone had sent her in as a call girl to work for Madame V, was royally screwed up. She’d helped save Breck and Kami, but she’d failed to find Lori, the missing operative she’d replaced in Madame V’s operation. She’d learned the truth about Whitestone and left them, but she wasn’t fitting in smoothly with her new team.
Always looking in from the cold, she remained the outsider.
H had checked on Ava throughout the night, waking her to make sure she was healing well. Each time he’d seen the pain lingering behind her eyes he’d considered making a connection to help her. Each time he’d stopped himself before risking another volatile link.
By the time morning had come and he’d heard her rolling out of bed he’d been all too willing to greet her with an energy shot before getting the hell out. He’d stuck around, looking at her in yet another ridiculous T-shirt.
Now, two hours later, she was still lodged in his head. Upsetting and confusing and vibrant.
He’d known she was on to him, but acknowledging how close she was… He may as well have done a long jump and hurdled into chaos. Linking with her, healing her, hadn’t been his first miscalculation. It had been the impetus to set the pendulum of disaster into motion. He’d gotten too close, too fast, and with the clarity of a sniper’s scope, he sensed the rising danger.
His office door swung open. Dana stepped in, anger buzzing through the air around her. “Good. You’re alive. Now I can kill you.”
“Dana.” He slid a file over the papers on his desk and faced his sister.
Instinct told him he was going to have to get used to lying, and be good at it, very quickly. His inner thoughts and bodily responses would have to match precisely or she would nail him. He couldn’t allow his baby sister by five minutes to know Eston White was making a return. Especially considering he would be their target.
“You didn’t call me. You always call me.”
“You’re right.” Every night at the same time he would either call her on the phone or reach out to her mentally. Last night, when he should have been contacting her, he was getting into bed with Ava.
He dredged up every lesson in control and restraint he’d learned during General Scott’s torments to modulate his reactions. “I’m sorry.”
“Where were you? I was worried.”
“Ava had no one else to keep an eye on her.”
“Right.” Her tone screeched bullshit.
“She has a concussion, Dana. You would have done the same thing.” Except for the part of revealing their identities to a woman withholding information he needed.
“I would’ve taken the lying slut to a hospital.”
His gaze snapped to Dana. His spine stiffened and his blood slowed. “Watch yourself, Dana.”
She drew back. Her forehead bunched up, but a moment later she shook her head and advanced as shock set in. “You told her.”
“I told her nothing.” The weight of the truth shook his voice.
“But she knows.” Dana sank into the chair across from him. Her shoulders slumped. “She knows who we are.”
“Yes.” So much for lying to protect her.
“You said—”
“That General Scott assured me we would never be found or revealed. I know.”
“Then how’d she find out if you didn’t tell her? Does she work for the general?”
“I don’t think so.” He dug his fingers into the knots in his neck. “I know she’s not telling me everything, but I also know she doesn’t deserve the level of hatred you have for her.”
“She almost killed you!”
“Damn it, Dana!” He slammed a hand on the desk. She jerked back. “I told you what happened. It was my choice to connect with her. I endangered myself. And I’d do it again if I could.”
“What a ridiculous thing to say.”
“No. It isn’t.” They’d never gotten into the discussion of what they would like to do. They always stuck to what they would do to maintain a low profile. “If I could use my abilities to help ease suffering I would.”
“H…”
“I get it. I can’t cure everyone and I would pay a tremendous physical toll.” He scrubbed his face, hating the stresses piling up. “Trust me when it comes to Ava. She’s different.”
“You like her.”
“She…” He’d almost gone with the intriguing excuse, but Dana deserved the stronger truth. “I care for her.”
“But you don’t know her.” Confusion rested on the underbelly of
Dana’s argument. She wanted to be a free spirit, but some things still confused her.
“No. And I know she’s keeping secrets from me, but I also know she’s not interested in hurting me.” Nope. There was nothing malicious in Ava’s intentions. In her touch. Her taste. Her kiss.
He would stay open-minded when things were fully revealed. Or at least try.
“What do we do next?” Hesitant resolve deepened Dana’s normally happy voice.
She’d worked so hard to overcome her fears of the world. Trying to protect her came naturally. The desire to protect blinded him to the inner strength she’d drawn on to survive. She hadn’t abolished all of her fears, but she would fight to stay free.
“We go on. We can’t change what Ava’s learned, and we can’t allow what-might-be’s to control us.” H sighed and stretched his neck. The morning’s swim had done little to wash away the effects of stress plaguing him.
“Why are you tolerating her? Why aren’t you forcing the truth out of her?”
“Because that would make me no better than General Scott. I’m not sacrificing my soul for answers.” A moment of peace that felt remarkably like Ava erupted in him in a flash of brightness. He shook his head, dislodging the feeling. She was nowhere near him. They couldn’t be sharing a connection still. “And unless I’m very wrong, she’s special.”
“Special?” Dana scoffed.
She was only getting warmed up again, so he waited.
“Special like you’re entertaining foolish thoughts like spending your life with her or special as in she’s gifted with abilities?”
“Yes.” Clarify that fast. “To the gifted part. She’s either empathic or psychic. Maybe a little of both, which would make her very unique.”
“Or maybe she’s a great actress planted here by General Scott or Janus. Maybe she’s just using you to get information.”
Like him, Dana saw a conspiracy in everything and a spy in everyone. As far as she was concerned, only children were safe. And even they were only safe to a certain age. But he’d already explored that theory.