Riley Jensen 03 - Tempting Evil Part 29

"Lady, present any man with a naked woman, and they're going to notice, no matter what they're doing."

How very true. Unless, of course, they were as highly trained-or as gay-as my brother. Though Rhoan did appreciate a good female form, even if it didn't excite him. Concern flicked through me as I thought of him, and I frowned, wishing once again he was telepathic. I needed to talk to him, needed to know that he was okay, that this vague sense of unease had nothing to do with him.

But that wasn't an option, and there was nothing I could do except concentrate on the here and now. "Well, at least I know I'm not losing my touch."

I b.u.mped against him as I said it, and he chuckled softly. "Stop flirting, ma'am. It's appreciated, but I'm likely to end up with my b.a.l.l.s in a sling if I tried anything in this place."

"Isn't that a little harsh on you boys in here when everyone else is allowed to sample the goods?"

"Yeah. But we're better paid than them."

"Money isn't everything.""No, but living long enough to spend it is."

Which he wouldn't because I couldn't afford to leave witnesses. And that was a d.a.m.n shame, because he actually seemed like a nice man, even if he was working for a monster. I closed my eyes briefly. I couldn't think like that. I simply couldn't.

I had to kill them to throw the heat off me and Rhoan. There was no other choice.

"How are they going to know?" I said.

He glanced at me. My infrared vision made his eyes glow strangely, but even so, amus.e.m.e.nt was very evident. This man might be attracted, but he wasn't about to be distracted. d.a.m.n.

"There's another guard in security. He'd tell."

"And here I was thinking grown men were above being tattletales."

"He values his life, just like I do."

"What if he joined in the fun? He could hardly tattle if he's guilty of the same crime."

The amus.e.m.e.nt got stronger, touching his lips. But for the first time, excitement spun through the air.

"I don't think Mr. Merle would be too pleased if we did his lady."

My snort was derogatory. "I may be his latest f.u.c.k, but I'm not his lady."

He grinned. "You sound like a woman not being satisfied."

I arched an eyebrow, and lowered my voice several notches as I said, "And are you the man who's going to relieve that problem?"

He glanced at the door ahead, then back at me, and cleared his throat. "Probably not."

Well, this was definitely a first. A naked woman throwing herself at a man, and him refusing. It looked like I was going to have to use my werewolf aura because while I could take out one well-trained, well-armed man, I wasn't sure enough of my skills to take out two. Not when I had to beat bullets as well. And given the time restraints, and the fact that even this guard was showing wariness, I just couldn't afford to play around.

We stopped at the door. The guard pressed his thumb into the scanner, keyed in a code-which I noted-then pushed the door open. The room beyond was only semi-dark, lit by a flashlight that sat on the middle desk, its bright light beaming upward and splashing across the ceiling. There was no one else in the room, but as the door clicked shut behind us, the second man came and poked his head through a doorway across the other side of the room.

"Just about to fire up the emergency generator." His gaze ran down my body and a smile tugged his lips. "You're one h.e.l.l of a messenger, lady."

Though this second man wasn't as big as the first, he also wore a thin strand of wire around his neck. Obviously, in the security heart of his empire, Starr wasn't taking chances with having just the one mode of psychic protection for his men. And personal shield wires like these weren't disrupted by power blackouts. I'd have to get them oft to get the information I needed. Luckily, a wolfs aura worked on a base level rather than mental, so the wires weren't going to be a hindrance.

"The papers are on my desk, Joe. I'll just finish cleaning the generator before I start her up. The maintenance boys have been d.a.m.n slack."He disappeared again. Joe had barely taken a step when I unleashed my aura, flicking it across him like a live thing, letting the heat of it overwhelm him, until the desire to take what he wanted, what he craved, was all-consuming.

I knew what it felt like. Knew the flame of it, the way it snapped control and made you need as you have never needed, because Misha had once used his aura on me. But at least I'd had the option of negating the power of it with my own aura. I could have controlled just how much it affected me.

This man, enhanced human or not, had no such choice.

His hand shot out and thrust me hard against the wall, his lips crushing mine as he ripped at his clothes with one hand and groped wildly with the other.

I kissed him back, enjoying the taste of him, the feel of him, giving him that much as I slipped my hands up his back and around his neck. My fingers found the wire's connection. The second it was undone, I slid into his mind. When he was mine, I let my aura drop and forced him to stop. He was panting heavily, his mind dazed, confused, but not fighting. He wasn't psychic, so my hold was complete.

But the little lances of fire beginning to shoot into my brain suggested I had better not push this too far or too long. The recovery from controlling Merle was taking longer than I'd thought.

I quickly sorted through his thoughts and memories to find the information I needed. The controls to Iktar's implanted bombs were indeed here, locked in a cabinet in the main office-which I hadn't noticed but was apparently to our right. Joe didn't have the code for the cabinet. The other man, Maz, did.

That was all I could get. I made him step back, and put my hands around his neck. His neck muscles were tense under my fingertips, the beat of his pulse erratic. Killing him was just a matter of applying some pressure to the right spot, feeling his flesh and bone crack and break under my grip.

My stomach rolled.

I couldn't do it.

I just couldn't.

Jack might want me to be a killer, he might have trained me to be a killer, but killing so coldly, so matter-of-factly was a state of mind, a zone you went to. Or so Rhoan had once said. I didn't have that zone, not yet, and I'd be d.a.m.ned if I'd step on the path to that dark place unless I absolutely had to.

But I couldn't leave this guard as he was, memory intact, either.

Sweat trickled down my cheek as I went back into his mind and reorganized his memories. Made him remember not me, but a short, blond man with green eyes and a bulbous nose. I had no idea if such a man actually stayed here, but at least Starr would waste time looking for or interrogating him. Better than me or Rhoan. I left him remembering Merle's order for the papers-a fact Merle and his memories would strenuously deny, therefore heightening the confusion. Then I added a fight and gave him bruises to prove it with a quick one-two punch to the jaw that knocked him out cold, and threw him back to the floor.

His body had barely hit when the second man suddenly appeared. I saw the gun in his hand in one of those heart-stopping moments when you just know you're not going to get out of the way in time, and flung myself sideways anyway. The retort echoed loudly in the small room and the bullet tore through my arm rather than my heart. Pain bloomed, but I ignored it, unleashing my aura as I hit the floor, striking him with it as hard as I could.

It didn't affect him. He just stood there, gun aimed and expression fierce.

Shock rolled through me. I'd always believed, had always been told, that a werewolf's aura would devour any race. h.e.l.l, even the Government believed it, because they'd recently put in place laws that made the use of auras on humans the equivalent of rape. We could use it on each other just fine, just don't touch the precious humans or you'll find yourself thrown in prison.

So why wasn't he affected?

I didn't know, and right now, didn't have the time to wonder. I closed my eyes and forced myself to ignore the beat of pain in my arm, the sweet smell of blood seeping onto the carpet. Let my limbs go lax, as if unconscious.

For several seconds, the man didn't move. His steady breathing stirred the air, as did the scent of him, a weird mix of grease and earthy, heady pine.

I remained as I was, on the carpet and bleeding all over the place, and eventually he cautiously walked toward me. He toed my leg several times, then carefully bent to take my pulse. He was too ready for action, the gun too close to my heart, to react in any way, so I simply lay there as his fingers pressed into my neck. After several seconds, he grunted and rose. He walked across to his partner to check him, then walked back around me to the desk. As he reached for the phone, I kicked his legs out from underneath him. He was spinning, the gun swinging my way, even as he hit the floor. I launched forward, grabbed the gun with one hand and elbowed him hard in the face with the other. Bone and cartilage shattered under the force of the blow, and blood splattered across my face and arm. He made an odd gargling sound, as if he suddenly couldn't breathe, but I ignored it and knocked him unconscious with another punch.

He went limp and tension slithered from me. Instantly, pain bloomed again, becoming a red wave that left me momentarily gasping. The bullet might have been an ordinary one rather than silver, but it still f.u.c.king hurt. I quickly shifted shape to stop the bleeding and start the healing. Though the pain muted, it didn't go away.

But right now, I couldn't afford to waste more time on another shift. I had to get the controls for Iktar and get the h.e.l.l out of here.

I swiped at the sweat on my forehead with my arm, grabbed the gun and shoved it on the tabletop. Then I scrambled back, gripped his belt and hauled him onto his side. Blood began to soak into the carpet and his breathing seemed a little easier. After unclipping the wire from around his neck, I dove deep into his mind and grabbed the code for the security cabinet that held the controllers, then did a quick search for other usable information-which came in the form of the location of the fire exits for the subterranean levels. Surprisingly, this wasn't the tunnel Moss had disappeared into, so where the h.e.l.l did that go?

The guard didn't know. Actually, he had no awareness of that particular tunnel.

The sharp spikes beginning to drive into my brain suggested I'd better get on with it before said brain exploded under the pressure. An image that made me smile even as the pain grew and my eyes started to water.

I quickly gave him the same false memories as the first man, then re-clipped the wire around his neck and rose. A quick search in the nearby office uncovered the cabinet. After the code had been entered, the draws clicked open. Inside was what looked like game controllers, several bunches of keys, and a notebook that just happened to contain all the codes for the various areas.

I found a bag and carefully shoved everything inside, then locked up and headed out. I was at the door when I remembered one vital thing-all the locks to security areas were key and thumbprint coded. I couldn't get out of this room, let alone into the labs or anywhere else, without both.

f.u.c.k.

I glanced at the two men, then the knife the first guard had. There was no choice-and losing a thumb was infinitely better than losing his life.

I carefully lowered my haul then walked over to get the knife. A quick check told me his pulse was a little thready, but otherwise strong. Unconsciousness would hold a little longer. I stole his knife and walked across to the other guard.

The hilt seemed to grow heavier in my sweaty palm, as if the knowledge of what I was about to do weighed down the metal. I touched the second guard's neck lightly, checking his pulse yet again, then took a deep breath to fortify myself and splayed his hand on the floor, thumb well away from the rest of his fingers.

After another breath that didn't do a thing to calm my stomach, I raised the knife and sliced down as hard as I could. There was little resistance. The knife slammed through skin, muscle, and bone as easily as it did the carpet underneath, stopping only when the blade hit the concrete base. The force of the blow echoed up my arm, making my teeth ache. Blood welled from the wound, thick and rich.

My stomach rolled, then rose. Swallowing back bile, I raised his arm so that the flow was lessened, then gingerly picked up the detached digit, wrapped it in some plastic I found on the desk, and headed back to the door. Once through, I ran like h.e.l.l down the tunnel for the next door. I barely got that one open when my stomach rose again, and this time there was no stopping it.

It wasn't until the very last second that I realized there was someone standing on the other side of that door.

And by then, it was too d.a.m.n late.

Chapter Thirteen

Vomiting is never a pleasant experience, but it's even less so when you don't know if the person sidestepping the projectile is friend or foe.

I mean, how can you defend yourself when you're chucking your heart out? It's impossible. Truly impossible.

The only way I knew I was safe was the mere fact that nothing happened in the time I had my head buried in the bushes. It was only when I leaned against the wall to steady myself while I sucked in great gulps of air that I caught the odd scent of earth and air. Iktar. Neither friend nor foe, but somewhere in between.

But he wasn't the only one here. Awareness shimmered across my skin, a warmth that went deeper than mere knowledge of presence, touching me in a way so few did.

Quinn watched and I felt a whole lot safer.

"Here." I dug into the bag and retrieved the notebook, then held out the bag to Iktar. "Your controls and some keys. Knock yourself out."

"Thank you." He accepted the parcel warily, but the glow in his eyes was that of a man who finally saw the ending of a nightmare. "I am in your debt, more than you could ever know."

"No, buddy-boy, you're in the Directorate's debt, and you may live to regret that." Because I had a feeling Jack would like at least one of Iktar's mob on his "new" team-and the old one.

He shrugged. "It cannot be any worse than being held prisoner by a madman, or being killed off one by one in his insane missions."

Except that the Directorate and insane missions often went hand in hand. h.e.l.l, why else would Gautier love the job so much?

"The maintenance crews are fixing the circuit breakers as we speak," he continued softly. "You have ten minutes, if that."

"Then I'd better get my b.u.t.t into gear." I pushed away from the wall and wiped a hand across my mouth. There was nothing I could do about the blinding ache becoming well and truly settled behind my eyes, but the bitter taste in my mouth was at least fixable. All I had to do was find a tap.

"Hope you get your people out safely, Iktar. And be careful with those controls."

His smile held little amus.e.m.e.nt. "We have someone who can disconnect these. We will be gone before dawn." He held out a hand. "Thank you again."

I clasped his hand and shook it. His fingers were cool against mine, his skin smooth and leathery, like a snake's. Not unpleasant, but not something I wanted to touch on a regular basis.

As he walked away, I glanced at the trees again then went in search of a garden tap. I placed my stolen thumb and notebook out of the water's way, then rinsed out my mouth and washed the blood from my skin.

Though I heard no sound, the caress of warmth told me Quinn was close. He stepped free of shadows and said, "You look a mess."

"You always say the nicest things."

My voice was dry and amus.e.m.e.nt touched his dark gaze. "Need some help?"

"Yes. I have to rescue a baby and destroy a lab." I scooped up a final mouthful and drank it, then turned off the tap and picked up my stolen goodies. "The fire exits apparently come out in the trees behind the gym."

"Lab? Not the main ones, I suppose?"

"No. How'd your tunnel hunting go?"

"Came to a dead end. Or, more precisely, a metal door." He hesitated. "I waited the day out there, but no one ventured down from either direction."

"b.u.g.g.e.r."

His shrug was all elegance. "The bad guys do not always play the game the way we might wish."

"Well, gee, thanks for that news bulletin."

He smiled, and my hormones did their usual little jig. Annoying, but then, a werewolf's hormones didn't usually give a fig about appropriateness or timing. "There were a lot of guards entering the forest when I came out, though."

"And you didn't stay to investigate? Why?"

He glanced at me. "I felt your pain."

"Ah. Thank you."

Which seemed totally inadequate, but what else could I say? Thanks for caring, but you really should have seen what those guards were up to? I wasn't that much of a b.i.t.c.h. Well, technically I was, but not in the way humans used the word.

"Can I ask why you're gripping a b.l.o.o.d.y thumb and notebook?"

"Most secure areas around here are thumb and number coded. A thumb is easier to drag around than a guard.""Hence the vomiting."

"Hence the vomiting," I agreed. And holding it, feeling the coolness beginning to creep into the severed flesh, even through the plastic, had my stomach spasming all over again.