by Milly Taiden
She felt the vial in her pant pocket slide out and Walog was gone. Melinda sprang to her feet and reached in the direction he was. Her fingers snagged material the same instant the lights came on. Walog grabbed her wrist and flung her toward his rolling trash cart. The impact wasn’t as hard as she anticipated and she was able to keep from slamming into it by bracing her arms. Unfortunately, the trash barrel was on wheels and moved on contact.
Her hands gripped the top edge, her feet stumbling along, unable to get under her. She and the cart zipped between two tables until the wall ricocheted their advance backward and to the floor.
The door opened and Hamel started toward her. She jabbed a finger in Walog’s direction. “He’s got the last of the serum.” Hamel stopped and whipped around to see the janitor halfway to the door. In a single leap, Hamel flew over tables toward the man. She sat on the floor in disbelief. Was he some super human? No one could do what he just did.
When Hamel tackled him, she saw the tube in the man’s hand. “Don’t break the glass vial,” she screamed.
Hamel’s hand wrapped around Walog’s, protecting both from smashing against the floor. The doctor then punched the janitor in the face, but that didn’t slow the thief. He twisted and landed a knee in Hamel’s side, launching him away. But with his hand still around Walog’s, he didn’t go far.
Walog grabbed the doctor’s wrist to jerk his hand away at the same time the doctor latched on to the glass tube. Hamel ended up with the prize and a very pissed-off janitor. Walog climbed to his feet, panting. His dark eyes now glowed red. Melinda screeched then slapped her hand over her mouth. Walog didn’t look human or friendly. His mouth opened and a deep voice, not his, came out.
“Give the virus to me, and I will let you live.”
Melinda heard the familiar squeak of one of her mice. She glanced inside the tipped trash container to see her mice’s cage turned on its side. What the hell? She reached in and lifted it out, gently righting it. Momma mouse was fine, but the precog baby lay lifeless. She wasn’t sure if the death was from a burned-out brain or rough handling. Either way, it didn’t matter. It was gone. If the serum was destroyed, this little creature alive in the cage was their last sample. It had to be protected.
And why was the cage in Walog’s trashcan?
Hamel’s body flew backward through the air, crashing against the counter close to her. She scooted away in reaction to his violent landing. He simply shook his head then climbed to his feet. His arm reached out to her, the test tube dangling in his fingers. She snatched it from him and cradled it to herself, her wide eyes watching as the doctor stood.
Hamel asked the man, “Who are you?”
A growl came from the man’s open mouth. Multiple voices sounded as one. “We are no one. Give us the serum and we’ll be gone from this world.”
Melinda sucked in a breath. Holy shit! She recognized this. Her parents had preached to her to no end about demons taking over human bodies. The Exorcist on steroids. This became more unbelievable by the second. Oh. My. God. Walog was going to vomit green shit and crawl on the ceiling.
“We need holy water! He needs an exorcism,” she mumbled.
A destitute African villager, willing to do anything for his family, including giving up his soul, possessed by a demon in a country heavily into voodoo. Putting it like that, it sounded like an everyday occurrence. But she didn’t believe in demons, did she? She watched Walog and decided that she most certainly did at that moment. She couldn’t argue with what she was seeing with her own eyes.
Hamel asked her next question for her. “What would demons want with a virus that doesn’t kill? Isn’t that your purpose? To kill as many humans as you can and take over the world, or some deluded shit like that?”
Unearthly gurgles came from the gaping mouth. “Give us the virus and we’ll let you live.” A small centrifuge machine launched toward her. She ducked her head. She had the tube; she was the target again. Hamel must have thought the same. He lifted the trashcan, flipped it upside down, and put it over her.
Immediately, she pounded on the side. “Hamel, dammit, get this off me.” She tried to get her fingers under the edge, but there was nothing to grip to pull up. When she reached up in her sitting position, her fingers grazed the top/bottom of the barrel. With the mouse cage in her lap, there was no way she could move.
Something heavy slammed against the plastic container she was under. Maybe it would be a good idea to stay put until Hamel said. Dammit, but she wanted to see what was going on with demon-possessed Walog and Hamel. This kind of stuff never happened to her. But it was probably dangerous, so she’d stay right where she was.
Outside her safe hidey-hole, a storm erupted. The sound of wind slashing around the room startled her. Other pieces of equipment sounded like they were smashed against hard surfaces. Howls and catlike growls and hisses cut the air. When did animals get into the room? Her poor momma mouse was probably traumatized.
The noise stopped. She held her breath, trying to hear the slightest sound. Footsteps came her way. “Melinda, you okay?” The trash barrel was lifted. Her eyes squinted against the bright light. As her pupils adjusted, the room came into focus. It resembled her lab from a couple days ago. Everything not previously bolted down was now on the floor.
Her heart raced. “What the hell happened? Why were his eyes red and why did a creepy-ass voice come from him?” Then she remembered Hamel was the thief. But wait. Why did Walog take the serum? And why was Walog possessed and wanting her research? She was so confused.
Hamel took the cage from her lap and set it on the counter. She scrambled to her feet. “Stay away from me, Hamel.”
He looked at her with confusion on his face. “Melinda, I’m not the bad guy here. I’m sure Walog is.”
No, she didn’t want to believe that. Dembe knew Walog’s family. They were honest people. Something had to be very wrong if he was the bad guy here. Even though things pointed to that. She must not have all the facts. “He’s a hardworking man trying to make a living for his family.” She looked around the room for him. Her pulsed doubled. “He’s just into this Halloween thing really hard. Did you kill him?”
“No, just knocked him out. He’s on the floor over there.” He indicated the direction with a jerk of his head. She slid backward along the cabinet, keeping an eye on Hamel while looking for Walog. “And he’s not into Halloween. That was not him talking to us before.”
“If you’re not the bad guy,” Melinda asked, “then why are you here?”
“Here, as in this room? Or here, as in Uganda?”
“Both.” The downed janitor came into her sight. She ran to him, sliding the vial down her shirt and bra, the only place she could think to put it. On her knees, she put fingers to the side of his neck. His pulse felt strong. Thank god, he wasn’t dead—
Walog’s eyes popped open. A red dot in the middle of each pupil focused on her. She pulled away, startled by the movement. His hand snapped up and grabbed her around the neck. Instantly, her air was cut off. “Give me the serum.”
Ah, fuck! Maybe Hamel was right and Walog had more than a few things wrong with him. Hamel was beside her immediately. He slammed the man’s head against the floor, knocking him out a second time. The hand fell away from her. She scrambled backward, bumping against an overturned table and other equipment on the floor. Hamel turned to her.
“Stay away from me, both of you.” Her hands shook. She now understood why the mice’s cage was in the trash barrel. Walog was mouse-napping them. She had told Walog earlier where she’d moved them. Same as she told Hamel where she’d hidden the serum. She really needed to learn to keep her secrets to herself.
Walog’s mouth opened, yet his eyes remained closed. “He will not stop until the elixir and an army of demon mutants are under his control.” A stream of vapor rose from his mouth, like a fire through a chimney. It hovered in the air below the ceiling, the
n vanished with a pop.
The prone body on the floor groaned. Hamel gently slid his hand under the man’s head. “Walog, can you hear me?” The janitor’s breath came shallow and fast. His tired eyes were back to human.
“Tell my wife, children, I love them.” His eyelids began to droop. “I’m sorry for hurting you. He lied to me. Said he’d help my family. He lied . . .” Walog’s body relaxed and he exhaled his last breath.
Chapter Twenty-two
Hamel gently laid Walog’s head on the floor then stepped back. His brain was in a whirl from all that had happened in the previous five minutes. He needed to prioritize. His mate came first. He turned to see Melinda staring at Walog’s body. Her eyes snapped to his. She backed away from him, fear in her eyes and in the air.
He raised his hands in supplication. “Melinda, please—”
“No.” She snatched up a glass flask and wrapped her hand around the narrow neck. “Don’t come any closer. I’ll cut you with—” She banged the bottom of the flask against the countertop—not too hard, just to break off the end to have a jagged edge. When it didn’t break, she did it again, harder. When it still refused to bust, she lifted it over her head, yelling, “Break, goddammit! Now that I want it to break, it won’t!”
Hamel, using his supernatural speed, came up behind her to grab the flask and save her from hurting herself. From what he’d seen, Murphy’s Law applied to her more than others. He set the flask on the countertop, then wrapped his hands around her waist and placed her on the cabinet. He snaked his way between her knees.
“Woman, will you calm down for just one second?” His exasperation showed. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this way. Maybe never. Great, she could drive him over the edge in minutes. That should make for an interesting life. He wrapped both her hands in one of his and laid them on her lap.
The back of his hand rested against the crease between her legs. The heat coming from that area was intense. The yoga pants she wore outlined everything quite nicely. A matching heat built in him. He’d been so close to her, watching her, for days, and not able to so much as hold her. His defenses were breaking down.
Now that the thief had been caught, this was over and he would seduce his little mate and take her with him. How could she resist someone like him?
But first he needed to call Kintu and get him to join them so she would chill out. After doing so and putting his phone back into his pocket, he focused on her.
“Okay, I know you have questions. Start asking.”
She was taken aback for some reason. Her words stumbled and stuttered before she got a full sentence out. “You can’t just demand I ask questions. I have questions.” And those sentences didn’t make much sense. She shook her head. “You know what I mean. H-how, I mean, y-you, and that.” Her eyes went to where the demon’s aura had hovered over Walog’s body before disappearing.
“It’s okay, sweetheart.” Shit, where did that come from? He’d never called anyone that. Her disapproval shined clearly on her face.
“Do not call me ‘darling,’ ‘sweetheart,’ or ‘honey’ or I will turn you into a eunuch before you can even think to cover your balls.”
His body involuntarily cringed away, mainly his mid-section. “Warning noted,” he said.
“Now let go of me and back away. I’m not going to do anything but wait for Mr. Kintu to get here.” He released her hands regrettably and stepped back. His cat was scratching and telling him to get back in there. It was the closest they’d been since the all-over body scratch earlier.
At least Melinda didn’t smell afraid, probably just confused. How much should he tell her? His cover was probably blown. Maybe it was better that way. He could get closer to her then. But that was sorta against policy, to screw your assignment. But she was his mate. That had to be different, right?
“Who are you really, Dr. Hamel? And if you say you’re a doctor, you’re well on your way to being a ‘sweetheart.’”
He shoved his hands into his pockets and turned to her. “My name is Parish Hamel. I’m not a doctor, but a national security operative. I was sent here to protect you and the work you’re doing.”
“Protect me? Why? We just discovered the ESP virus a little over a week ago. How could you have known about it?”
He walked to the counter and hopped up to sit next to her. Really close. She frowned, but didn’t say anything. “I don’t get details like that, Melinda. I’m told to go, and I go. But I want you to know this assignment is more than a job to me. You’re more important than that. I want to get to know you better.”
“Know me better?” Unease floated in the air. “Why?”
“Because you’ve captivated me and I can’t stop thinking about you.”
She gave him a look of disbelief. “Right. And now you’ve completed your mission and want to just start seeing me and going on dates and stuff?”
“Yeah. I want to spend some time with you. Hang out at the beach, walk around town and see how much trouble we can cause.”
She laughed. “I think trouble follows you. That’s all I’ve had since you’ve been here.” Her smile slipped a bit. “National security, huh? CIA, Homeland, Navy SEALs?”
She would get down to the nitty-gritty. “Our initials aren’t well known. Let’s just say we’re a federal agency, sanctioned by the president. Will that work?”
Melinda leaned back and looked him over. He wondered what was going through that beautiful head of hers. She smelled so good. He shouldn’t be sitting this close to her. Desire had burned low for several days and was ready to burst into a huge flame. He scooted his thigh over to touch hers. She noticed, but didn’t move away. That was a good sign.
Fuck, how he wanted her. To make that dream they’d both been in a reality. To touch her and kiss her and make her his. He wanted no more lies or half-truths between them. Her scent called to his animal. They both wanted to mate with her. He struggled every second to not walk up to her and take her lips, press his body to her soft curves and finally have that skin-on-skin contact he craved.
“I guess that’ll work. You haven’t killed me or run off with the virus, so what can I say? I guess you’re not the bad guy like I thought.” She eyed him. “Maybe.” The edge of her lip curved up. His heart flip-flopped. She was playing along, willing to let him get close.
“You could say that you’d like to go out with me this weekend. That’d be nice. Since I’m visiting and all. Show me around town?” Technically, he knew just about everything there was to know about the area, down to the closest fault lines. Part of his job was knowing the territory before going in. But he wanted to see it through her eyes.
Her laugh tinkled in his mind. “We’ll see, big boy. Right now, I’ve got a lot to take care of. Starting with a dead janitor. Or whatever he was. Why were his eyes red?”
Boy, that was a good one. How did he answer that without her thinking he was loony? He heard noises in the hallway outside. Kintu walked through the door with a couple guards. Hamel pointed to Walog’s body. Kintu gave orders to take the body to large cold storage and looked around the room.
“Let’s go to my office,” he said. “There’re some things I need to tell you that you probably won’t like.”
Chapter Twenty-three
On the trio’s trip down the hall to Mr. Kintu’s office, Hamel rested his hand on the small of Melinda’s back and whispered into her ear, “Are you okay?” He worried she would become overwhelmed with too much information in so short a time.
When they came to her lab room door, she said, “Hold on a second. I need to do something.” Kintu continued on, but Hamel stayed with her.
“What do you need to do?”
She scoffed at him. “Nosy, aren’t we? Just because you’re here to protect me doesn’t mean you get to know everything.” She entered her lab and headed toward a cabinet. She opened the drawer, pulled ou
t something small, then he heard the sound of a rubber topper pulled off.
All right. Enough of this being-secret crap, he wanted to know what she was doing. When he approached her from behind, he saw her hand tuck something into the center of her bra. He had to admit that was a great hiding place.
Melinda turned on her heel. “Okay, let’s go. I’m done.” He scowled at her and she laughed at him. “Don’t be so grouchy, Doctor.” As she walked away, he swore her hips swayed more than before.
• • •
Settled into chairs in front of Senior Principal Research Officer Kintu’s desk, Hamel and Melinda sat staring at him, wondering what he’d tell them that they wouldn’t like. Left to his own devices, Hamel could come up with some really bad shit he didn’t like.
Mr. Kintu rested his elbows on his desk. “Dr. Hamel—”
“Excuse me,” Hamel started, “but my cover is no longer in effect. Miss Caster knows my true identity.”
“What should I call you?” the senior PRO asked.
Hamel shrugged. “Hamel would be fine.”
“Okay, Hamel, tell me what evidence you’ve got against the janitor. Even in Uganda, they need a reason to put people in jail.”
“He was stealing my mice. That’s for sure,” Melinda huffed. “I found the cage in the trash barrel he was pushing around. There was no trash in it, either. Plus, it was ten thirty. His shift ends at ten.”
“First off, he didn’t smell like anything,” Hamel said.
Mr. Kintu’s brows lowered. “What does that mean? He smelled like nothing?”
“Means he was wearing hunter’s block to keep his smell out of the rooms,” Hamel said. “Is it normal around here for janitors to wear block?”
“I wouldn’t know why, so I’d say no.” Mr. Kintu leaned back in his chair.
Hamel asked, “Do janitors have keys to all the labs?”
Mr. Kintu nodded. “Why would he take the mice?” He looked at Melinda. “Is there something I don’t know about the mice?”