by Milly Taiden
“Miss Caster,” he began, “why keep breaking your lab? Someone angry?”
“Please call me Melinda. I guess somebody wants what I’m working on badly.”
“Panya okay? No see,” he asked.
Oh, her mice. She had to bring them in. “I think so. I moved them last night and haven’t checked on them yet.”
He set the broom against a table. “Me help. Cage heavy for woman.” He started toward the door. That ruffled her feministic feathers, but she knew he was only trying to help. He followed her and carried back the cage. After he set it on the table in her lab, he stuck a finger through the wire meshing. “Hmmm. Not good.” He poked one of the small babies lying unnaturally still.
She came around the side and saw a second baby unmoving. She let out a sad sigh. Both the clairvoyant and telekinetic mice were dead. The baby monkeys had lived several months. She’d hoped to have more time with the mice. Did they have more than one ability? Could they have developed more? How powerful could the ability grow to? Would offspring be stronger or weaker?
So many questions left unanswered. Her eyes floated to the one baby remaining, running around, not knowing it was now an only child. Well, sort of. Technically, it had more than a dozen brothers and sisters elsewhere in the building.
“Miss Melinda, I take babies for you. Bad. Make sick.”
“Thank you, but not yet. I have to see why they died. I think their brains burned out.”
He looked at her, questioning expression on his face, as if he didn’t understand what she said. Or he did and thought she was nuts.
“Okay, you call me when.”
“Thank you.”
He gathered his broom and equipment and rolled his trashcan through the back hall door.
Melinda leaned against the table and blew out a breath. She called Dembe to see when she had time to run scans. One of the other techs was finishing up and she would be ready shortly. She could prep more analysis or trials, but she’d have to stop in the middle when Dembe was available.
Now what? It was too early for lunch. Since Hamel still hadn’t shown up, she dialed his number. After several rings, he picked up.
“Go away.”
Melinda snorted. “Nice, Doctor. Sporting a hangover from too much drinking last night?”
“Yeah, you could say that. They may as well have given me an IV so I could’ve taken it straight.”
“What’s the occasion? Or does Oversight require that type of work?”
“My job description mentions fieldwork, but doesn’t mention anything about the local flora or fauna.”
“You gotta stay out of those clubs, Doc. They’ll kill you.”
“No shit.”
“So, you coming in?”
“Of course. I gotta keep an eye on you.” Did she detect a bit of playfulness in his voice? And what was she doing joking around with him? That wasn’t like her. She didn’t like talking on the phone if she didn’t have something specific to say.
“Well, too late for that.”
He asked why, and she went into how the morning had been so far. To her, he didn’t sound happy at all. And the more she talked, the madder he got. She heard a door close through the phone line.
“I’m on my way. Don’t go anywhere. In fact, stay in your lab. Don’t let anyone in.”
Was he serious? Did he think she was a child, unable to take care of herself? She blamed it on his being a male. She didn’t appreciate his demanding patronizing tone. “Listen here, buddy. No one has told me what to do since I left my parents’ house. And it won’t start here. I have mice brains to scan, and you can’t stop me.” Dear god, she sounded like a four-year-old having a tantrum. “I’ll see you when you get here.” She disconnected the line and crossed her arms. Men.
One more call, then she’d continue with her day. From her purse, she fished out the business card for the medical center she’d brought the jaguar to last night. She asked for Buga. When he picked up the phone, he said he was glad she called.
He told her that his grandfather came in sometime in the morning, mumbling that the animal was fine and had left the medical center. Buga laughed. “The cat may be fine, but he’ll have one hell of a hangover. I pumped enough anti serum in him to counteract a gallon of venom. I was hoping to take some pictures of the beautiful animal. But as my grandfather said, he let the cat loose.” He laughed again.
“Did he say something else, too? What are you laughing at?”
“Grandfather actually said he let the cat loose, reprimanding it for getting bitten and telling it not to do it again.”
Melinda smiled. “Like the cat could really understand him? That’s cute. He really cares for the animals, doesn’t he?”
“He does,” Buga said. “Almost too much. It kills him when poachers get in, take what they want, then leave the rest to rot. Things like that bring out the voodoo in him.”
“Voodoo? Is that part of him being a witch doctor?” Thinking back on the old man, she hadn’t expected him to be a witch doctor. For one thing, she didn’t think they believed in modern medical science. Obviously, that wasn’t true with this one.
Buga laughed again. “If you believe in that kind of thing. Grandfather gets out his herbs, rattles, and dead chicken blood and puts a ‘hex’ on the bad men so their exotic goods never make it into market to make them money.”
“That doesn’t seem too wise,” Melinda said. “Then they’ll just come back for another one.”
Buga cleared his throat and seemed to hesitate. “Well, there’s more to the hex, but I’m not going there. It seems to work, because I never see the same poachers twice.”
Melinda didn’t know what to think, except that this was getting weird. “So the cat is safe and back to where it wants to be, then?”
“Yes, everything should be fine. If you see it again, let me know how it’s doing. It is so rare to see a jaguar in this part of the world anymore. Too bad they aren’t native. They are beautiful.”
“I agree. I’ll look for him and see how he’s doing. He may not come back since he was released at your place, though. He’ll probably find somewhere around there to roam.” Melinda was surprised how sad this made her. “At least he’s safer on the refuge than wandering the woods.”
“Not from snakes.”
Melinda smiled. “True. Keep in touch.” She slid her phone into a pocket, grabbed the mouse cage, and left for Dembe’s lab.
Chapter Seventeen
“Look here,” Dembe said, pointing to the monitor with the end of a pen. “Just like the monkeys. All the center sections with the additional synapses are black.”
Melinda sat back in the rolling chair and stared at the images on the screen. “What if these connections were burned out from overuse, like having no fuse pop when overloading to save the wire from damage? Too much for the tiny DNA available.”
“That makes sense,” her friend replied. “We need to study these fibers to see if they are identical to the original ones. They could be weaker in structure, or could be the same and the psychic use is too much, like you just said.”
“Either way, though, not including other factors, this brain burnout is likely to be the cause of death for the mice and monkey babies.”
“I’d agree with that. Did you get anything written last night to present to Kintu?”
She rubbed her face with exhaustion. “No. I had something else come up. Besides, without the mice, the show is much less impressive. But I will get the whole experiment together soon. I need to get a new laptop, too.”
“You’re looking really tired. Are you not sleeping?”
“Not restfully. I’ve been dreaming these past few days. Some I remember and some I don’t. Plus, the stress with the robberies, and Dr. Oversight being all weird—”
“Weird? What’s he doing?”
Melinda g
roaned. “I don’t know. I’m just worn out. And it’s only Thursday.”
“Take vacation time. Heaven knows you have enough to take a month off.”
Melinda sighed. “Just sleep and spend all day in bed. That would be nice.” And dream about Mr. Beach Man. Her phone rang in her pocket. She took it out and looked at the caller ID. “I need to take this. I’ll see you after lunch.” She grabbed the cage while pushing the answer button and headed for the door.
“Hello.” Melinda jammed the phone between her ear and shoulder as she opened the door and stepped into the hall.
“Melinda, hi. This is Sheri from HR in Atlanta. How are you way over there in Africa?”
“I’m good. It’s beautiful here. The lab is awesome. I couldn’t ask for anything more.” Well, Beach Man came to mind, but eh . . .
“I looked up a Dr. Hamel. We don’t have anyone by the name Parish. We have a Nevel, but no Parish. Could that be a middle name?”
“Could be. I didn’t ask. But I’d pick Parish over Nevel if I had to choose.” She opened the door to her lab and carried the mouse cage to the cabinet under the windows, then leaned against the countertop.
“Yeah, me, too. Sorry I couldn’t have been more help.”
“No, you are definitely a help, Sheri. Thanks for getting on it so quickly.”
“Anything for you, girl. Whenever you come back to the States, let us know. We can all go to the Mexican grill. Bet they don’t have much of that around there.” The baby mouse started running around its cage, banging against the sides like it was trying to get out.
Melinda laughed at the food reference from Sheri. “You so got that right. I’d like to talk longer, but my mouse is having a panic attack or something. Tell everyone I said hi.” The mouse squeaked and she swore it screamed. “Okay, calm down.” She slipped her phone into her pocket, then picked up the cage and headed for the table. Halfway there, the windowpane that had been cut and taped back up the other night came loose and smashed on the counter exactly where she had been standing.
She stumbled toward the table, barely able to get the cage on it before she fell. Her knee smacked on the hard floor, but the pain didn’t register. Her mind was occupied with the splintered glass on the cabinet and ground.
She would’ve been cut badly, with no one around to help her. My god, she could’ve bled to death. If the mouse hadn’t thrown a hissy fit— Oh shit. No way. Did the mouse know it was going to happen? A cold chill rolled down her back, goose bumps prickling her legs.
Leaning away from the table leg, she eyeballed the now quiet mouse. It jumped into its running wheel and took off like nothing happened.
She climbed to her feet and the mouse jumped off its track and ran to the farthest corner from the opening. Melinda reached in and pulled it out. “Sorry, buddy. If you know the future, then I gotta know. We’ll only do a couple things so you don’t burn out. How’s that sound?”
Placing the critter in the middle of a wide, open pen, she pulled out a treat to put in the upper right corner. The mouse scampered to that area. She gave it the reward then paused to think this through.
The mouse could’ve seen the window come loose, ready to fall. But it wouldn’t understand the consequence of that. She watched the little guy sniff along the side of the pen as he walked along. He could’ve read her mind and seen where she was going to put the treat. But that didn’t work for the window event since she didn’t know about it. What were the other options?
One more experiment, then she’d stop so she wouldn’t burn out his connections. It wasn’t possible the mouse could know the future. It hadn’t happened, so how could it know? She hated time-continuum paradoxes and books and movies that tried to get around it. It simply wasn’t possible—she thought, anyway.
Ripping a piece of paper from the pad she carried, she tore it into quarters then wrote numbers one through four so each torn section had one numeral on it. She wadded these into small balls, gathered them into her hands, and shook them as she walked to the pen.
“All right, baby mousey, which corner am I going to pick?” She laid the paper wads on the pen’s floor. The mouse still moved around with what looked like no purpose. When she put a finger on a ball, the mouse scuttled to the lower left corner. “Okay, let’s see if number three is under my finger. If it is, I’ll give you two treats.”
Her heart thumped as she picked up the ball. Fingers shook as she peeled the paper apart. Slowly, the numeral three came into view. Her breath caught. She put two treats in the corner, then repeated one last time with the same results. She even put down the first selected ball and chose a second one. She leaned against the wall. The magnitude of what this meant to the world scared her. She slid down the wall to sit on the floor.
The world would go to war to get their hands on this virus. They would kill anyone in the way to acquire this miracle bug. No wonder her lab had been broken into twice. She froze when realizing the next logical step. Someone knew what the virus was all about. How far would they go to keep her from learning the full potential?
Chapter Eighteen
Hamel had spent hours poring over security footage, retracing the footsteps of the thief, figuring out how the camera system kept being turned off with no one knowing, and how no guards heard anything. He even rappelled down the wall to re-enact the first incident.
Now, on his way to find his mate, frustration set in. Nobody was this good at getting away. They would make a mistake and he’d be there to find it. No one threatened his mate and lived. He finally began to understand all the strange behavior he’d seen from mated men while he grew up.
He had always thought the males were overprotective to a fault when it came to their mates. He never understood why, but he’d never been in love, either. His feet stopped short. Was he in love? Could love happen in three days?
She saved his life, or at least made it less painful. The snake venom probably would’ve been neutralized in his system, but it would’ve taken much longer than with the anti-serum. He loved how she loved animals, big and small. He loved how she laughed, how she smiled at him, how her eyes sparkled when she was happy. He even loved how klutzy she tended to be.
He loved her mind and her body. He loved how she moved around the room, sure and confident in herself. Loved how she called him out when he tried to boss her around about staying in her lab today. His mate couldn’t be a wimp. She’d have to stand up for herself.
With that many loves, he figured he was in deep. Damn, this would really rock his world after the mission was over.
When he opened the door to her lab, he smelled her fear. “Melinda!” he called out as he flung the door open. Immediately, he noticed the window section was missing, some of the tape flapping in the breeze. He jumped a table to get to the far side of the room. Then he saw her sitting on the floor against the opposite wall.
He pulled her up by her shoulders and held her to him. His arms slipped around her. She felt so good pressed to him. Her hair smelled like strawberries. His favorite. Then he remembered who he was supposed to be. He quickly pulled her away, bumping her back to the wall.
“Whoops, sorry.” He released his hold and felt the loneliness. “You look devastated. What’s happened?” He checked her over for injuries. No blood or cut clothing.
She didn’t respond quickly enough for him. He frowned at her. Was she going to lie to him? He sniffed for it.
“Nothing. Well, two of my baby mice died.” She paused then turned her head to the side. “The window fell. My lab was broken into again. I’m tired.” He felt she held something back, but those reasons alone were enough to put her in the funk she was in. He’d get the rest later.
“Why don’t you go home for the day? It’s been a long week with all the break-ins. In fact, take tomorrow off. You have vacation time, right?”
She looked up at him. “You’re the second person to tell me that today
.”
“Well, then.” He smiled at her and brushed a non-existent strand of hair behind her ear. “That says to me you have no choice but to go home and open another bottle of wine.”
Seeming in a slight daze, her hand raised to touch the place he brushed his fingers over. “That sounds like a very good idea. I need to clean up and get the vial—”
“Let me take care of everything. I’ll make sure the mice are safely locked up in the other lab. Where’s the best place to hide the serum? Your refrigerator is trashed.”
“It’s safe. I put it in the Virology guys’ cold unit.”
“Good. I’ll talk with Kintu and tell him you’re off until we can get you set up to work effectively again.”
Her head tilted to the side. He caught her stare. “Why are you being so nice to me? You don’t have to be.”
He sighed. Man, he really wanted to tell her the truth about him, about who he was and who he worked for. He was tired of being undercover with her so close.
The urge to kiss her overwhelmed his senses. His animal wanted to make her happy, to make her smile again. He stepped closer to her. The mouse in the pen next to him screeched at him then ran to the far side of the pen.
Melinda said, “That was weird. It’s never done that before.”
Damn critter. It ruined the moment. If they weren’t in an occupied building, he would’ve let his cat have a light snack. The cat rolled its mental eyes. Don’t waste my time.
Hamel cleared his throat and headed to the other side of the table to get the mouse and put it in its cage for the night. Immediately, the mouse took off for the far corner where Melinda was. What the hell?
“Remember,” she said, “they don’t like you very much.” She scooped up the mouse, gave it a treat, and set it in its cage. He recalled that, but how did the thing know he was coming to get it? Maybe it smelled his cat and just ran.
“If I leave,” she started, “will you have something to do for the rest of today and tomorrow?”
“Oh, don’t worry about me. I’ve got enough to keep me busy. Go ahead and go. I’ll talk to Kintu to get the window patched, at least. Getting glass may take a few days.”