Deadly Genesis (Boomers Book 2) (3 page)

God, she needed to shave them.

Swallowing took effort, like she couldn’t quite remember how to tell her muscles to do it.

“Hello there.” The warm-whiskey-on-a-cold-winter’s-night voice tingled through her. Delicate flutters shivered over her skin.

Moistening her lips, she took a deep breath. “Applesauce.”

Her eyes widened.
Okay, now I’m freaking out.

Ilsa—the doctor—shone the light in each of her eyes, muttering under her breath. Most doctors seemed to make the same kinds of humming noises when they did a checkup. It must be a verbal shorthand they learned in school. “Now I want you to look straight ahead and tell me when you see my fingers.” She leaned in and drew back slowly, holding her index fingers parallel with Amanda’s ears and then drawing them back until they showed up.

“Crispy.”
Son of a bitch. I didn’t say crispy, I said now.
She didn’t get it. She thought the word “now,” but it came out wrong. At least she could tell it was wrong. What would verbal salad sound like if she didn’t recognize the flaw in it?

You’re doing fine.
Simon stood just a few feet behind the doctor. Rory leaned on the door frame and another man stood just behind her, tall, dark and ominous. He stayed on the periphery, but everything about him warned her to keep her distance. He wasn’t a friendly.
He’s worried about Rory. Michael can be intense, but he means you no harm.

The doctor went back to muttering, so Amanda spared a look at Simon.
At least you can understand me.

He gave her a small smile. The barest tilt to his lips gave his grave expression a hint of sweetness. She bet he looked stunning when he really smiled. The corners of his mouth nudged higher. She sighed.
Okay, yes, you heard that. But if you eavesdrop with impunity, you have to just live with it.

Understood.
His slow nod was both grave and polite.
And thank you.

She shook her head and sighed. “Grow ditches in the village.”
What the hell is wrong?
She gave Simon an imploring look, and he translated.

“I’m not sure. It could be directly related to the issues with the chip. I removed most of it, but I want to start you on some medication to bind any metal still in your system. Do you have any allergies?”

“Pontoons.”
No.
Yeah, this shit got old quick.

“Okay, sit tight. Let me see what I can put together. I may need to have Garrett bring in some supplies. I also want to reattach those I.V.s and continue your fluids. You’ve lost a great deal of weight and—do you know when you ate last?”

“Pussbuckets.”
No.
But now that the doctor asked, she didn’t notice any hunger. Her stomach didn’t hurt and her mouth wasn’t dry.

“Hunger might not be an issue. We’ve had you on nutrition and fluids since we got you here, but a feeding tube could have sustained you if you were unconscious. But let’s start with liquids. I hope you like soup.” Ilsa rose and slid her penlight back into her pocket. As she swung away from the bed, her hair slid away from a white bandage on her forehead. Amanda caught her arm.

“Dog in ham chicks?”
Did I do that?

Simon translated and Ilsa smiled, covering Amanda’s hand with her own. “It was an accident. I’m fine. Now sit tight, let me go check on the medication I want to get ordered, and then we’ll get you a new banana bag.”

Rory didn’t wait for Ilsa to clear away before sliding onto the other side of the bed. She wrapped her arms around Amanda and they hugged like long-lost sisters. For the first time since she woke, Amanda relaxed. Rory was familiar. Rory was family. Dark eyes stared into hers as she leaned back. “You’re going to be fine, okay?”

“Zipit.”
Yeah.
She sighed and rubbed a hand against her face. Rory pushed the hair away from her and grinned crookedly.

“Yes, you will. Because I need my best friend back, not to mention all the shoes you missed this fall. I can’t begin to tell you the boots I found for you.” The twinkle in her eyes didn’t disguise the concern or the sadness. But Amanda summoned up a smile. “And maybe I picked up a pair or three in your size…”

Behind her, the man in the door snorted.

Her teammate just waved a hand. “Ignore him. They don’t understand the value of a fabulous pair of shoes.”

Right now, I’d just be happy with the value of speaking sense.
She glanced at Simon.
Can you let her hear me, too?

He nodded once.
Go ahead.

Thank you.
She looked at Rory.
They took Ronan.

Simon frowned.
You need to let us…

“I know they took Ronan. We’ve tracked him to somewhere in Khazakstan. But R.E.X. has changed a lot of their protocols. Josh and I want to head there, but the others aren’t so sure until we have solid intel.”

Who are they?
Amanda didn’t look at Simon, her attention riveted on Rory.

“They’re friends. You can trust them. I do—with my life.” That was one hell of an endorsement. Rory didn’t trust easily or without cause. “As for the rest, we’ll go into that when you’re better. Right now we focus on getting you well and back in the fight.”

Exhaustion crept up over her, and she leaned back against the pillows, still holding Rory’s hand. She didn’t want to go to sleep. What if she did and woke up in that hellish place again? Or worse—found out this was all a dream, some warped fantasy she filled the hours of her incarceration with?

It’s not a dream, Amanda. If you go to sleep, I will still keep watch and keep it together for you.

Yeah, that’s not creepy. Total stranger—granted, a hot stranger—accessing her most intimate thoughts.

It’s only as creepy as you let it be, Amanda. I will do my best to respect your privacy. But you need the help right now.

Yeah. Or else.

He didn’t sigh, but she could almost read it on his expression. The grim patience amused her. She had to wonder what got under his skin. Rory cleared her throat and Amanda glanced at her, and blinked slowly. She had almost forgotten she was there. “Zippers.”
Sorry.

“No worries. You need to sleep and I need to go argue with Michael some more about this plan. We’ll figure it out, okay? I think Curtis and Josh will be here late tonight or early tomorrow to see you. And…honey, I didn’t tell your parents that we found you yet. They still think you’re off on one of your wild bohemian journeys of self-exploration—shagging rock stars and the like. But we don’t know if R.E.X. is watching them, or if someone else is, and we don’t want to lead them back to you.”

It was for the best. Her parents didn’t know anything about her other life, and she liked to keep it that way. The blue hair, the wild trips and disappearing for weeks on end were part of her modus operandi. It protected her very middle-class, middle-American parents from the truth.

Thank you.

Rory gave her another squeeze, a lighter one this time, as though afraid she might break her, and then she was on her feet and gone. The respite didn’t last long. Ilsa returned and set up the I.V. bag and the coldness spread up her arm slowly. She watched every move the doctor made, but Ilsa did nothing without explaining it first.

So much better than being restrained, pressure wrapping around her skull and her hands trapped inside heat sinks—heat sinks. They’d drained her power as fast as she could build it up. The terrifying images cut through her mind like a torn film, skipping over the gray empty places. How the hell had they known that would work to contain her? She didn’t have to fire out of her hands—
but I always do. That’s how I harnessed it—focusing with my hands.

Simon waited for the others to leave and walked back over to take a seat. He watched her. Always watching.
Giving you the time to yourself…you’re right though, the memory indicates they knew how to bottleneck your offensive capability.

Cheery thought.
Her eyes burned with fatigue, and she let them fall closed.

No, not really.
Simon’s mental voice sighed.
Sleep. I will keep the demons at bay.

Can you get to them? Those empty gaps that I can’t seem to feel?
Even her mind seemed to slur the words, forming them sluggishly.

Sleep. We will discuss it later.
The order chafed, but she drifted too far away to respond. The rock waited for her, but it was green and covered in flowers. She smiled.

Simon sat there, quiet and authoritative—almost like a sentinel warding away the unknown. No dark skies or crumbling landscape. It made her feel better.

Which was something.

Michael didn’t quite slam the door, but the hard thump echoed through the bedroom. They didn’t stay in the Hamptons house often. He preferred the warehouse in the city, and the private apartment he constructed for them in it—a fortress within a fortress. Rory stripped off her shirt and tossed it into the laundry pile then headed straight for the shower. Unfortunately, Michael didn’t follow. She paused in the doorway to unzip her boots and look at him.

“Okay, spit it out. Cleanse your chi.”

His dour look warned her that she wasn’t scoring any points. She leaned back against the door frame and stripped the boots. Dropping them on the floor between the bathroom door and the dresser, she met his gaze.

“This isn’t funny, Rory. You keep doing this—taking stupid chances with your life.”

“I’m fine, Michael.” She sauntered toward him. Most of the time, it didn’t take much to find herself in his arms and make love up against whatever surface that was closest. But he ignored her state of undress and shook his head.

“They had a gun to your head. You called for backup and then went silent. What would you have done if we hadn’t gotten there?”

Sliding her hands up his arms, she shrugged. “I would have stripped the clip out—which I did—and fought back. But I needed the time. The download to the thumb drive was still in progress. If I hadn’t let them ‘capture me,’ I ran the risk of destroying the very thing I went there to get.” Licking her lips, she flattened her palms against his chest. The body armor couldn’t disguise the warmth of the man beneath. A man she’d formed a violent addiction for in the space of a few short hours. Those feelings reinforced every single day.

“And if they’d just pulled the trigger? You would have been dead.” He refused to be pacified.

Okay, fine. Let’s fight.
She sighed. “They weren’t going to pull the trigger. They wanted to know what the hell I was there for, and that meant working me over.” A motley collection of bruises already formed along her right side. They’d kept their fists to themselves—in fact she was rather impressed with their interrogation technique. The bag full of heavy fruits hurt like hell when they hit, but they spread out the damage.

His jaw clicked, a muscle jumping in his cheek. “Working you over involved beating you, Rory.” Catching hold of her arms, he pushed her back and swept his gaze over her side. “And you should let the doctor give you an exam to make sure there isn’t any internal bleeding.”

“They’re bruises. You gave me worse when we first met. I’ll heal.” She shook off his grip and walked away, pulling open her pants and stripping. If he wanted to keep bitching about her choices, he could follow her into the shower. “The important part is I got the information. As soon as we decrypt it, we’re one step closer to finding Ronan.”

“And you couldn’t wait? You just went without letting anyone know you were going until you were there and in trouble?” Michael stalked into the bathroom and filled the entryway.

“You realize that I’m a big girl, right?” She reached in and turned on the water. “I’ve been doing this long enough that I know what I am capable of. Josh and Curtis tracked Ronan to Russia, but the facility where he was being held was abandoned and the information was in an offsite server—in Canada. So I went over the border and got it. It would take months to get any kind of traction through legal channels, and we have no idea if the empty facility was still being monitored. The chance that our locating the facility would cause them to move the information again far outweighed checking in with you and arguing for two days about how the hell to get it. Sometimes, you just take the fucking bull by the horns and say to hell with the consequences. I called you when I needed you.” Why couldn’t he just understand that? She had to find Ronan. Finding Amanda helped. It eased that ache in her gut for her friends, the worry for her team. But now the fear for Ronan intensified because she saw Amanda’s precarious condition. What the hell would these freaks do to her Dark Angel?

The water steamed up, but Michael grabbed her before she could step under the spray and dragged her back against him. His arms snaked around her middle and his mouth came down to her shoulder and kissed the skin there. Was their fight over?

“You make me crazy.” He muffled his solemn words against her flesh. “You have an entire team at your disposal. You are one of us, and we take care of our own.”

Covering his hands on her stomach with her own, she closed her eyes. “Michael, Ronan is a part of my team, too. He’s family. We don’t leave him behind. I can’t, and I won’t. The Boomers have a mission, you know I understand and respect that. I’ll do whatever it takes to help you, but could you leave Rex or Simon or Drake or even Garrett locked away with lunatics experimenting on them for one second longer than you had to if you could track information to get them?”

“Of course not, but I wouldn’t go after them without a plan to maximize my success.”

“I had a plan. And it worked. I got the information we need. Look—” She scraped her teeth against her upper lip. “This is who I am. I’ve been Halo for years. I have a team. Responsibilities. It’s what I do, and I’m not going to stop.” Twisting around to face him, she looped her arms around his neck. He lifted her easily, and she smiled. “I have to be me.”

“Can you be a safer you? A more tempered you? I’m not telling you we won’t get your friend. We will. Together. You say you have a team, but do you know what I see?” He stared at her steadily, unflinching in his regard.