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Eight.
My friend Vlad once told me that soundproof didn't mean mindproof because telepathy travels through even the thickest walls. Case in point: Whatever government official that had secretly backed Madigan after Don fired him had been careful. Even with a vampire's supernaturally sharp senses, nothing visible or audible gave a hint that the former laboratory was still in operation, albeit four stories beneath its original location. Only my and Bones's ability to read minds clued us in; though if not for him, I might have missed it anyway.
We followed the thoughts of an employee to the entrance of the facility, concealed inside the elevator of a parking garage two blocks away. Push one of the four b.u.t.tons available, and you got the parking level indicated, but hold the first and third b.u.t.tons down at the same time, then enter a code, and you went several stories below to a secret tunnel connecting the two locations.
Someone who'd put that much effort into concealment wouldn't skimp on surveillance, so we didn't attempt to apprehend the employee there. Instead, Bones waited across the street before following the blond, bespectacled young man after he climbed into his vehicle and drove off. Ian and I were on foot, stationed at opposite ends of the street. No matter which way the man turned, he'd pa.s.s one of us.
I got the lucky drive-by and made the most of it by breaking my heel and pretending to stumble into the street. The young man's car screeched to a stop only inches from where I crouched.
"What the h.e.l.l, lady?" he snapped, rolling down his window.
I kept my head lowered so that my hair concealed my face. Who knew if Madigan had circulated my picture to his employees?
"My ankle," I said in a shaking voice. "I-I think it's broken."
A car horn blared behind him, and he made an exasperated noise.
"Broken or not, you gotta get out of the street."
I rose, still keeping my hair in my face, and then crumpled with a fake cry when I put weight on my ankle.
"I can't," I wailed.
A few people watched from the sidewalk, but none of them offered to help me. G.o.d bless society's indifference. If I hadn't been blocking the road, Madigan's employee would've been equally unconcerned, as his thoughts revealed, but I was an obstacle that needed to be removed. With a huff of irritation, he got out of his car and came toward me.
"Give me your hand, I'll-"
That's all he said before I hit him with my gaze, noting with relief that his eyes glazed over immediately. I'd been half afraid that Madigan had indoctrinated his employees against mind control by giving them vampire blood.
"Don't speak. Get in the car, pa.s.senger side," I said in a low, resonant voice as I climbed into the driver's seat. The blond employee complied, sliding into the seat next to mine without a word.
A few gasps sounded from the people watching this turn of events, but then Ian sidled up to the group.
"Mine, mine, mine," he said as he collected cell phones from the onlookers, flashing his own mesmerizing gaze to still the instant protests. Now, at least, we wouldn't have to worry about video of this ending up online.
I sped away without waiting for Ian. He knew where we were going. Then I drove long enough to ditch the car in a dark, deserted area before yanking the blond employee close and vaulting upward into the night.
Too late, I realized my mistake. I'd ordered the man not to speak; I hadn't ordered him not to be afraid. When we were about a mile up, something warm soaked through my jeans. A glance down confirmed my suspicions.
"Eww, you peed on me?"
Squirty didn't reply, of course. I shoved him back as far as I could without dropping him, belatedly commanding him not to fear. He stopped hyperventilating, but the stain in front of his pants kept growing. Appears once the faucet was turned on, it would keep running until it was empty. To make matters worse, no matter which way I turned him, a wet spot kept brushing up against me.
Ian would laugh himself silly when he saw this.
I gritted my teeth and focused on where I was going, glad the wind kept the smell from hitting me. Navigating by bird's-eye view was difficult since street signs were unreadable from this height, but after a couple adjustments, I landed in the gra.s.s next to our RV, only tearing up a small clump of earth with the impact.
"You're getting better, Reaper," an English voice noted behind me. "Though it took you long enough."
d.a.m.n, Ian was already here. I braced myself as he came out from behind the RV. He sniffed, his nose wrinkling. Then he looked over me and my blond captive, grinning.
"Managed to squeeze in a golden shower along the way? How lecherous. I'm impressed."
"Save it," I said crisply, releasing Squirty after commanding him not to run. Since I'd also ordered him to be silent and unafraid, he stood there, his thoughts transmitting only mild curiosity at being trapped in the woods with two glowing-eyed creatures.
I gave him the full weight of my hypnotic stare before I spoke again.
"When I ask you a question, you will answer with nothing but the truth, do you understand?"
A firm nod while the word "Yes" echoed across his mind.
"What's your name?" was my first question. I couldn't keep calling him Squirty though my pants were proof of the moniker's accurateness.
"James Franco."
"Like the actor?" I couldn't help but ask.
His expression eased into a smile. "Yes, but poorer and uglier."
I didn't want to find James funny. With his job, this likely wouldn't end well.
"Don't speak beyond answering my questions," I said in a stiff voice. "Do you know what we are?"
"Yes."
A wooden reply this time. I gave a brisk nod. "Good, that saves time explaining. Now, do you know who we are?"
"No."
Guess I hadn't needed to conceal my face earlier. "Ever heard the name Cat Crawfield?"
"No."
Ian and I exchanged a surprised glance. James's thoughts were cottony beneath the mind control I'd whammied him with, but they agreed with his answer, not that I thought he was faking being mesmerized.
"What do you do at your job?" Just our luck to have captured a clueless pencil pusher . . .
James began to detail a complicated description of DNA a.n.a.lysis, gene splicing, and cross-species genetics. I didn't understand half of what he said, but the gist was clear: He was right in the thick of Madigan's experimentations.
"Does your facility have people like me trapped in it?" I asked, baring my fangs for emphasis.
"No."
"Why the f.u.c.k not?" I snapped in frustration. If Tate and Juan weren't there, then Dave and Cooper weren't, either. Dammit, this had been our best lead!
"Test subjects are housed elsewhere," James replied to my rhetorical question.
"Where?" Ian asked before I could.
James blinked. "I don't have clearance for that information."
Bones walked into the clearing right as I grabbed James by the shoulders and lifted him off his feet, almost shaking him with my sudden surge of hope.
"Who does?"
The two words were s.p.a.ced from my vehemence, but they merely earned me another slow blink. Then James spoke, and my short-lived hopes were crushed.
"Only the old man, Director Madigan."
I yanked the tiny shower door open, then cursed when it ripped off. In my foul mood, I'd forgotten to check my strength, a rookie mistake I hadn't made in years. Next I'd flash fang at a tourist and tell him in a Euro-trash accent that I wanted to drink his blood.
"All isn't lost, Kitten."
Bones appeared in the RV's tiny bedroom. I wrapped a towel around me as I shot him a jaded look.
"You're famous for your honesty, so things must really be bad if you're lying to make me feel better."
A smile ghosted across his lips. "Not lying, luv. James knows more than he realizes."
I went over to the narrow closet and picked out another outfit, glancing behind me to make sure Bones had shut the door before I dropped my towel. Ian would shamelessly peep on a free show, family ties or no family ties.
"Aside from making my brain hurt over the intricacies of genetic code and DNA splicing, I don't see how his knowledge will help us find our friends. If Madigan hasn't already killed them."
From the lingering looks Bones gave certain parts of my body, he wasn't above admiring a free show, either, despite the seriousness of the topic.
"While you were showering, James revealed that new blood samples are shipped to the building every two weeks for testing. The last one was eight days ago, so soon, a new one will arrive. That courier will have information on where it came from, and we'll find the facility from there."
"You think Madigan's dumb enough to have a return address stamped on a FedEx label?"
My question was brusque to cover the spark that flickered within me. Please, G.o.d, let this work, we don't have anything else . . .
Bones took the clothes I was about to put on and threw them aside.
"No, but the courier will either be coming from that facility, or he'll tell us who he received the package from. That will leads us to Tate and the others, Kitten. I promise."
Then he pulled me to him, his mouth slanting across mine. One by one, shirt b.u.t.tons popped open until nothing but hard, sleek flesh rubbed against my bare skin. My moan turned into a gasp at the demand in his kiss, and when his shields dropped and l.u.s.t poured over my emotions like hot caramel, I shuddered.
"Ian," I managed.
A chuckle vibrated against my lips. "Don't fancy him joining us, sorry."
I shoved against his chest, but it didn't move him. "He'll hear us," I got out before Bones's mouth stole away my voice. Then his hand stole my reason when it slid between my legs, stroking flesh that swelled and slicked beneath his touch.
Another chuckle, this one distinctly wicked. "Yes, so don't be stingy with the compliments."
I intended to argue more. Then his hands weren't the only things caressing me. Power swept over my body in delicious tingles, making my flesh hum before settling on my most sensitive parts with sensual intent. I barely noticed when Bones lifted me onto the bed, his body blanketing mine before my back hit the mattress. By the time his mouth scorched down my stomach and lingered between my thighs, I didn't care what Ian heard.
All I cared about was that Bones didn't stop.
Nine.
The woman wore a UPS uniform, but her plain sedan and thoughts revealed that she worked for another employer. Still, if Bones and I wouldn't have had our senses lasered on everyone who entered that parking garage, we would have skipped right over her.
For starters, she parked at the sidewalk instead of inside the garage even though that's where she was headed. Furthermore, everything about her seemed designed to be forgettable, from her short, lackl.u.s.ter hair to her average build and her pleasant-yet-plain features. Dress her in another uniform, and she could serve you pancakes at the local diner without once piquing your curiosity, yet her thoughts were in stark contrast to her appearance. She took note of her surroundings with military precision I'd worked hard to drill into my men when I commanded my old unit.
She'd never fall for the broken heel in the street act. She'd run me over first and check to see if I was an actual threat later.
Which meant we needed a new plan.
"We need to switch tactics," Bones stated, echoing my concerns.
I gave the sunlight a frustrated glance. If only she'd made her drop at night! With the cover of darkness, we could s.n.a.t.c.h her up and fly her away with minimal chance of anyone noticing. But revealing our species to humanity with a splashy supernatural kidnapping in broad daylight would make our current predicament look mild by comparison. There was a reason vampires had stayed in their metaphorical coffins for millennia. Anyone who threatened the secret of our existence ended up dead the messy, painful way by the Law Guardians.
"We could follow her home, take her there," I suggested.
"She doesn't live around here," a sleep-thickened voice stated from the backseat.
Ian. I'd almost forgotten he was here, probably because he'd been napping the past seven hours while Bones and I staked out the parking garage. Now he sat up in a slouch, sliding his black satin sleep mask up to his hairline.
"She'd live near the pickup point, not the drop-off location," he continued, blinking at the bright sunlight streaming into our car. "Which one is she?"
"The brunette wearing the UPS uniform," I said, pointing at her as she walked briskly toward the elevator. From our parked position on top of a hill across the street, we had a good view of the multi-level garage, which was why we'd chosen the spot.
Ian stared until she disappeared inside the elevator. Then he glanced back at me.
"Don't fret, poppet. I'll get her."
"We need to do this discreetly. If I wanted to make a colossal scene, I'd just drag her off kicking and screaming now," I said, not adding, "dumb a.s.s" only because he was family.
"She'll come without a fuss," Ian said with confidence.
"You can't green-eye her in the elevator, it'll have video surveillance. So will the garage," I retorted.