Pandora's Box

by K. C. Blake

  “I want another chance. That’s all.”

  She shook her head and walked away. “You were right when you said it wouldn’t work between us. We’re both addicted to the adrenaline rush of putting our lives on the line. If we try to hook up again, we’ll probably come out the other end hating each other. At least now we’re friends. Besides, the Secret Service wouldn’t allow it. You know they have restrictions on in-house dating.”

  DeMarco didn’t move or speak for a long time, so she delved into the box of tapes. Removing one at a time, she checked the dates on them. She was hoping to find a motive for Boracci and Grainger to assassinate the president.

  Madison asked, “What happened to make you change your mind about us? You were so sure when you broke up with me.”

  “I don’t know.” He looked at her through glistening eyes and his voice shook with raw emotion. “My life was going fine. I had no intention of getting back with you. Then I took you to the charity ball and danced with you and kissed you. Being away from you started to hurt.” He tapped his chest with two fingers, his voice raw with emotion. “It hurts so bad in here that I can hardly breathe sometimes.”

  He laughed at himself and added, “I sound like one of those stupid, sappy movies you love so much, but every word I’ve said is true. I just want to know that you’ll give me a second chance.”

  “And what about the reasons for us not being together? They’re still valid.”

  “We can have our careers and each other. If we can’t hide it from the service, then I’ll find a job elsewhere. You are more important to me than the job. I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner.”

  DeMarco leaped off the couch and charged across the room. She jumped up. He trapped her face between both his hands. For a moment she was afraid he was going to force a kiss on her. She didn’t want to hurt him, physically or emotionally, but she would.

  Wisely he chose not to kiss her.

  His eyes locked with hers and he said, “Please give me a thread of hope. Just promise me you’ll give us a chance. When this is over, say you’ll go out on a date with me. One date. That’s all I ask. One chance to make you fall in love with me again.”

  The passion and the sincerity in his voice and in his eyes caught her off guard. She experienced a pull of attraction between them again, a magnetic force. How could she say no?

  “Okay. One date.” She held a solitary finger up. “After I’m cleared of any wrongdoing and my father’s name isn’t mud in Washington anymore. Of course, if you lie to me again or keep anything important from me, your date will be with my fist. Get it?”

  “Deal.” DeMarco released her with a huge smile. “Now, what do you say we watch those boring speeches?”

  She laughed, at ease for the first time since her father had tried to kill the president. Tyler was momentarily forgotten as she reached for the first tape.

  ******

  Chapter Eleven

  Four hours later Madison sat on the edge of the couch, DeMarco asleep beside her as she watched yet another long and tedious speech. She stifled a yawn in her hand. Close to midnight and still nothing important. If she didn’t find something soon, she’d have to give up for the night and get some rest.

  After hours of dull speeches Madison saw something that shocked the breath out of her. She leaped off the sofa and briefly pressed Rewind on her dad’s VCR followed by the Play button.

  DeMarco groaned, his sleep disturbed by her sudden movement. He twisted his body at an odd angle, used the armrest for a pillow, and snuggled deeper into the cushions.

  The television screen showed the president behind a podium in the garden. Several rows of reporters faced him on metal chairs and a short line of important people including the first lady and vice-president stood behind him. Madison’s gaze swept over them and past the president’s shoulder to settle on his wife.

  The first lady, dressed in a chic white outfit with her dark cloud of hair in a classic chignon, stared at her husband’s back with a disinterested gaze. She looked away. Did she just roll her eyes? The vice-president looked at her and their eyes met in heated awareness. It was less than two seconds but not fast enough to keep Madison from noticing. The first lady’s cheeks flushed pink, her lips twitched as if she wanted to smile, say something or both and her eyes came to life.

  The first lady was in love with the vice president!

  Madison replayed the telling moment six more times before shutting the VCR off. A theory formed. The vice-president and the first lady had a motive for murder. With the president out of the way, they could have each other and the White House. Either one of them could have planned the assassination attempts. Or perhaps they were working as a team. Now that she had her suspects lined up, she’d have to assemble the evidence.

  Of course they weren’t her only suspects. Roxie had to be involved in this somehow. Could she be working for the vice president?

  Madison looked at DeMarco’s peaceful expression and smiled. She decided not to wake him. She went to the phone and dialed Tyler’s cell phone number. How was she going to break the news to him? She would tell him her suspicions that his mother was in love with Mercer, but she’d leave out the part about her being a new suspect on Madison’s list.

  The phone didn’t ring.

  A strange piercing noise caught her off guard, shooting through the phone line at high velocity. A dark, merciless shadow smothered her. She felt the familiar hot breath of a monster at the back of her neck, but she couldn’t move a muscle, couldn’t defend herself. Claustrophobic. The walls closed in on her. Her nostrils flared, picking up the stench of death.

  Then it was gone.

  Her lungs filled with good, clean oxygen, and the lack of tension left her shaky. She was surprised to find herself on the other side of the room, far from the telephone. Her hand quivered. Her fingers flexed, tightening around a rough piece of wood. She looked down, her eyes moving from wall to floor, but before she could look at the object in her hand she spotted something disturbing.

  Her gaze rested uncomfortably on a polished shoe. Inside the shoe was a foot and the foot was attached to an ankle followed by a shin and half a calf. The rest of the horizontal body was blocked by the couch.

  Afraid of what she’d find she circled the couch slowly, her eyes widening in burgeoning horror.

  DeMarco’s body, seemingly lifeless, wore the same white shirt and dark blue jacket; however, half of it was now soaked in blood. His blood. Likewise, the rug beneath his body boasted a huge dark stain.

  Madison’s fingers loosened around the unfamiliar object in her hand. It bounced on the wood floor, loud clatter. The startling noise drew her attention away from her former lover’s body. Her gaze slid to the left. Her eyes found the object she’d been holding seconds before.

  A blood-covered knife.

  Gasping, she stumbled backwards and nearly tripped over her own feet. A scream stuck in her dry throat. What should she do? If she’d had any doubts, the microchip in her brain had her programmed to kill, she didn’t anymore. She’d murdered DeMarco after he’d put his career and life on the line to save her.

  She had to turn herself in.

  The door flew open, banging against the wall, startling Madison. Tyler took everything in with a quick sweep of his penetrating green eyes. She tried to tell him what had happened, tried to explain, but no words emerged. They died seconds after being born in the back of her throat.

  Tyler raced around her and hunched down next to DeMarco. His fingers pressed against the other man’s throat and then his wrist. Seconds ticked by like hours. Madison waited for a verdict, hopeful now. Perhaps it wasn’t too late. If DeMarco was alive, they could rush him to the nearest hospital.

  “Is he—?”

  Tyler shook his head firmly. “Sorry. He’s gone.”

  “N-no.” Her hand went to her mouth, trying to keep the pain bottled up inside. If she splintered apart now, she’d never pull herself together again. “I don’t know what happened.” A
semi-hysterical bubble of laughter broke between her fingers. “That’s a lie. Actually, I do know what happened. I killed him. I freaked out and attacked him just like I attacked you.”

  “But you don’t remember anything.”

  A statement. Not a question.

  “I remember being on the telephone.”

  “With who?”

  “I was trying to call you.”

  Tyler’s eyes narrowed on her face.

  She asked, “Why didn’t you answer? Where were you? Why did you leave me like that?”

  “I thought you needed some time alone, so I went to Reno for supplies. What do you remember besides trying to call me?”

  “Nothing.” She threw her hands in the air. “Not a blasted thing. He was asleep. I think I heard a strange noise, something loud and unsettling.”

  “A noise? What kind of noise?”

  She tried to focus her mind on what it had sounded like. A blast? A buzz? No, it was worse than that. It had been extremely loud and piercing—like a whistle only a dog could hear. And there had been something evil hovering around her. A vague memory of a monster with claws made her unconsciously tremble.

  But monsters didn’t exist.

  Did they?

  “Snap out of it!” Tyler shook her twice before releasing her. “I have to think.” He touched his forehead. “What do we do now?”

  “Isn’t it obvious?” She stumbled to the phone. “I have to turn myself in. I killed DeMarco. I was probably programmed to do it, and we have no way of knowing what my next objective will be. I could hurt you. I could be programmed to kill the president. I have to be locked up.”

  “No.” He grabbed her wrist and dragged her toward the door. “We’re getting out of here. We’ll figure out what to do next after you’re safely hidden from the enemy.”

  Enemy? Didn’t he realize she’d become the enemy?

  Madison shook her head, numb. She didn’t have the energy to fight him. What did it matter where they went? She’d killed DeMarco. Sooner or later she would have to pay for it.

  ******

  The night slipped by in a confusing haze with Madison only half-aware of what was happening around her. Time became meaningless. Perhaps hours had passed by. Perhaps only minutes. She rolled onto her side. The hard mattress barely gave an inch. She heard Tyler’s muffled footsteps on the luxurious hotel room carpet as he paced behind her. They’d traded her father’s cabin for a fancy hotel room in the center of town. Neither of them had spoken a word since checking into the bridal suite on the tenth floor.

  The heater hummed steadily across the room near glass doors leading to the balcony, and the room was a comfortable seventy-two degrees, but Madison felt chilled to the marrow in her bones. She might never be warm again.

  Every time she closed her eyes she saw DeMarco lying there in a pool of his own blood. Her insides begged for some sort of release. Scream. Cry. Do something. But she couldn’t move. Unshed tears resided in her eyes, caught between a constant ache and the need to be strong. They refused to roll down her cheeks.

  With a heavy sigh Madison flung herself onto her back again and looked at Tyler. He froze in mid-step. He opened his mouth. Then closed it. No words could make her feel better, so he didn’t even try. He hesitated, waiting for her to speak. His intense green eyes watched her, concerned.

  Swallowing her pride, she asked, “Would you hold me?” Her arms opened wide to him. “I need to be close to someone right now.”

  Someone. Anyone? For a moment she thought he might refuse because of the wrong pronoun. The second the word left her mouth she wanted to call it back. It wasn’t true. She didn’t want someone to hold her. She wanted Tyler Law to wrap his strong arms around her through the confusing morning hours, maybe hold her until the shadow of night fell again.

  Tyler immediately settled his large body beside her. She rolled onto her side again, turning away from him, and his arm snaked around her middle. He pulled her back against him. Her spine pressed against his chest. The curve of her bottom pushed against his groin. One of his legs slid between hers and the other rested on top.

  He whispered in her ear. “It wasn’t your fault.”

  “How can you say that? I killed him.”

  “No. The person who programmed you killed him. My guess is Dr. Grainger did it, was paid by someone to do it anyway. Once we find that person, we’ll have the puppet master, the person or persons trying to assassinate my father.”

  Madison’s eyes widened. “Do you think I could be programmed to kill your father?”

  “No,” he answered a bit too quickly. “Don’t worry about it. I’m not going to let anyone use you again.”

  His arm tightened around her and she relaxed. Her head pivoted until she could see his face. She wanted him. She needed him. Before she could change her mind, she blurted the words out. “Make love to me.”

  “What?” He blinked at her and frowned. “You aren’t thinking straight. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

  “Yes I do.” Madison pushed him back slightly so she could turn her entire body to face him. The tips of her breasts teased his chest every time she took an unsteady breath. She confessed, “You were right in the cabin when you said I wanted you. I’ve wanted you since that first moment in the car when I nearly drowned us both. It’s grown since then. I don’t just want you anymore. I need you. I admit it.”

  Tyler’s strong jaw seemed to harden in refusal with every word she spoke. He shook his head. “It’s not going to happen. At least not today. When we make love, I want to know you’re with me all the way and that you won’t regret it afterwards.”

  He started to rise from the bed, but Madison pushed him back down. She straddled his lean hips, ignoring his protests. Hovering above him, her hands flat against his shoulders, she smiled. Although she was still grieving for the loss of DeMarco and her father, she actually felt her heart grow a little lighter. She knew she was right about Tyler. Joining her body with his would bring her soul back from the brink of extinction.

  “I need you,” she whispered fiercely.

  “You want to use me,” he said. “I could be the bellhop for all you care right now.”

  “Not true,” she insisted, hurt by his assumption. Her hands slid down the front of him, enjoying every muscular inch of his wide chest and rock hard abdomen. When she reached the hem of his shirt, her hands pushed beneath it and swept back up over now familiar territory. Springy chest hair flattened beneath her palms. “It’s you I want. You I need. I don’t know why, but you’re the only one who can save me.”

  She needed to forget.

  Her fingertips skated over a rough male nipple, and Tyler sucked in a sharp breath. He could deny her with his mouth. His body obviously wanted her. Satisfied she wasn’t wasting her time, Madison ripped his shirt open. The buttons flew across the room, landing in different parts of the bridal suite.

  His laughter brought an actual smile to her lips.

  “You are truly a dangerous woman,” he said. “I’m glad we’re on the same side.”

  Tyler tried to undo her shirt, but she pushed his hands away. “We’re doing this my way. Call it punishment for holding out on me.”

  His eyebrows drew together, suspicious. “What do you have in mind?”

  “You’ll see.”

  “You like to be in control.” The corners of his mouth twitched, close to a smile.

  “I don’t enjoy being out of control. Who does?” She shrugged slender shoulders beneath her warm blouse. Was it getting hot in the room or was it just her? “Everyone wants to be in control. Don’t you?”

  He shook his head slowly, his eyes holding hers in a steady gaze. “Sometimes giving up control can be fun.”

  Madison wondered how long he’d squirm beneath her before he tried to take over.

  She leaned down and kissed him full on the mouth. The tip of her tongue slid between his lips from one side to the other, daring him to hold still. And he did. She rewarded him by
deepening the kiss. Her tongue darted inside and swirled clockwise. She invited his tongue to follow her lead, invited it to enter her mouth.

  With a hungry groan, Tyler turned from follower to instigator. Then he froze and pulled away as if remembering his resolve to give her the lead. She had to give him credit for having amazing control.

  Madison stripped the clothes from his lean, muscular body with deliberate slowness. She reveled in every indulgent second. She touched, explored, and tasted every new inch of skin she discovered. Who knew it could be like this?

  A couple of times his hands went to her blouse, desperate to remove it, but she pushed them away and continued her exquisite torture of him.

  Finally they became a tangle of arms and legs, rolling on the bed together as a single entity. Kissing. Touching. She melted into him, no longer caring who took the lead. She simply wanted him. Every dark thought had been banished from her mind. This moment was the only thing currently existing in her world.

  The hard jangle of the phone froze them faster than a bucket of ice water.

  “I’ll get it,” Madison said. She straightened her blouse as she crossed the room, noticed the three buttons that had slipped through the holes and righted them. She grabbed the phone, the last ring vibrating through the veil of peace Tyler had helped her to build. “Yes?”

  A peel of irritating laughter, worse than the phone’s loud jangle, skittered across her nerves. “You two put on quite the show,” Roxie said. “I will say this about you, Mad, you sure can pick them.”

  “What are you talking about?” She stiffened and Tyler, as if feeling her change of mood all the way over in the bed, jumped off it and dressed quickly. Enough games! She asked, “Are you watching us?”

  Madison jerked her head toward the open vertical blinds that should have been pulled before the lovemaking session. She’d foolishly thought they were too high up for anyone to see anything, but the talented assassin must have rented a room in the building across from them and was using binoculars to spy on them.