Invidious Betrayal (38 page)

“Are you coming back?”

He could hear the fear and sadness in her voice and his heart ached anew. Ian cupped Aria’s face and leaned into her. “Given a choice, I would never leave your side Aria, but you need help that these doctors can’t provide.” Ian brushed his lips against her usually soft, but now cracked lips.

Her hands touched his chest, then she pushed. The effort was weak, but he backed away so she didn’t waste her energy.

“You aren’t going to him, are you?” She was panicked and her hands were fisting his shirt.

Ian covered her hands with his. How could he tell her that he was going to find the man who everyone, including him, thought was dead? “No, I’m not going to my uncle.” But he wouldn’t see her die, either. If this hunt for Doctor Marroe ended up being a wild goose chase, Ian would do whatever it took to save her and the baby. If getting that help meant he would have to make a deal with the devil, he gladly would.

“I would give anything to have met you under normal circumstances.” He placed his head on hers, cupped her face in his hands, and closed his eyes. “To see you carefree and happy.”

Tears streamed down Aria’s face, running through his fingers. “You wouldn’t have talked to me. I am so not your type,” she sniffed.

Ian laughed, hoping he didn’t sound as sad as he felt. “You don’t know how beautiful you are, Aria Cole. Initially you would have sparked my interest with your beauty. Your strength and independence has earned my respect. Your intelligence and spirit keep me humble. Your sensual curves feed my desires and quench my passion. The light in your eyes captured my heart and your love holds my soul.” He gave her a quick kiss. “I would have followed you around the entire night, waiting for you to grace me with a look and wishing you’d offer a word. You drew me in immediately, and I refuse to let you out of my life.”

Aria sucked in several gulps of air before her tears slowed and she settled down. “I’m sorry I fought you—us—so hard. When you kissed me at my house after meeting my folks, I pretended your kiss meant nothing to me. But it did, Ian. I didn’t want you to know that I craved your touch. I didn’t want you to think I was some kind of slut.” Aria’s tears began again. “If I had accepted what I knew in my heart I wanted, we would have had more time together.”

“Don’t,” he said, giving her head a gentle shake, “we’re still young. We’re going to have a long and happy life together. I plan to marry you, Aria Cole.” Ian placed one of his hands on her belly and left the other cupping her cheek. “We should at least have two or three more kids, and I would love to live in a town like yours, or here.” He looked around then back to her. “I am a very wealthy man, Aria,” he said, winking, “and keeping you and our children loved and happy will be my duty and pleasure.”

Her laughter, one of strength and true happiness, filled the room. “I’m not as eloquent with words as you are.”

He laughed. “I only need to hear three.”

“I Love You,” she said, making sure she enunciated every word.

Ian leaned in and kissed Aria so passionately that he almost forgot that she was weak and he had to go.

“Knock knock,” Roxanne said, as she opened the door. Both Ian and Aria pulled away from each other. Color graced Aria’s cheeks for the first time in two days. “I got your text. I’ll draw her blood and give you everything else you asked for, even though you won’t tell me why you need it.”

Ian kissed Aria once more before stepping away for Roxanne to do what she had to do. “Thanks, Aunt Roxy,” he said, kissing his aunt on the cheek.

“Uh-huh,” Roxanne said, shaking her head. “You’re welcome. Don’t forget to call the kids and tell them you’re leaving for a few days. Mandy, Tanner, and Selene idolize you. Mandy even thinks you’re some kind of superhero.”

“I will,” he said, waiting patiently for the blood samples. He needed to get going.

T
HE PLANE RIDE TO TEXAS
gave Ian enough time to second guess himself and his reasons for leaving Aria alone, but now he had arrived and he was driving to the residence of a man he believed was the supposedly deceased Dr. Marroe. If this didn’t work out, if he was wrong, then he would have to do what he promised Aria he wouldn’t. He would have to contact his uncle and beg him to save his family.

No matter what was going on, Ian wanted to believe his uncle wouldn’t kill his own blood. During the skirmish with Jasper, Ian knew he wasn’t the target. If he had been, he was sure he’d be dead already. That meant Vincent hadn’t given orders to kill him.

Turning off of a busy street, Ian pulled into a fast food drive-thru, ordered a burger meal, then pulled back into traffic. He ate while he drove, not wanting to waste any more time. If his assumptions were right, Aria would continue to get sicker, just like his mother had.

“Please don’t let me be crazy,” he said to himself as he followed the directions he’d mapped out. Wasn’t he crazy, though? To draw a conclusion based on a conversation you had with a man who treated you for severe allergies over ten years ago
was
crazy. That’s what had brought him to Texas—an innocent conversation that the average person would have written off.

But Ian hadn’t. In fact, he remembered every detail of the rare, odd yet eventful talk he and Dr. Marroe had. He was certain that it was Dr. Marroe that had come to his hospital room in the middle of the night and injected him years ago. And if he was right, if Marroe had left clues in that unlikely conversation so that Ian could find him one day, then maybe he would be able to help Aria.

Ian reached over to the passenger seat and grabbed a handful of fries, cramming them into his mouth before glancing at the map. That little distraction almost caused him to miss his turn. To make it, he had to quickly brake and swerve into a sharp right turn. A motorist behind him beeped his horn and yelled curses, but no one had gotten hurt and Ian had made the turn, so he continued on his way.

Driving slower now that he was in a residential neighborhood, Ian paid close attention to traffic and pedestrians. It was early evening, the time when all the children were outside playing and there were a lot of them here. Two more turns and a half mile later, he parked the loaner car in front of a large lot that resembled an island oasis.

Palm trees, huge potted plants, and a stone path led to an earth toned home with a welcome mat that said,
Wipe Your Damn Feet
. Ian raised his brow, but stepped up on the mat and did what it instructed. He knocked four times before he heard a male voice.

“This had better be important ‘cause I don’t own a DVR and I’m missing my damn show.” There was a creak from the other side of the door, but it didn’t open. The resident looked through a peephole. “Who the hell is it?”

Ian reached out with his new sense of hearing to determine how many people were in the residence. Two heartbeats echoed back, one definitely adult and the other...he wasn’t quite sure. He heard the man shooing behind the door at something that sounded like a household pet, a dog maybe.

“Mr. Wilson. James Wilson, my name is Ian Howl. Do you know me?” There was no response for a long while, but Ian stood with his feet planted on the not so welcoming door mat. Then the locks released and the door slowly opened. The wave of relief hit him so hard that Ian had to force himself not to fall to his knees.

With a weary smile, the familiar yet aged eyes of Dr. Marroe looked Ian up and down. “You’re important enough.” Dr. Marroe backed away, giving Ian a wave of his hand to come inside. “Are you alone, or is this a full-scale reunion?”

“I’m alone,” Ian said, stepping inside. He didn’t miss Marroe’s sigh of relief, just as he was sure the doctor hadn’t missed his earlier. Standing aside, Ian watched Marroe close and lock the door then he followed Marroe into the home.

“You thirsty? I have tea…or you may want something stronger if you came for answers?” Marroe said, turning the television off with the remote he lifted from the arm of a well-worn chair. He walked by Ian toward the kitchen which was located in the rear of the home.

“Tea is fine,” Ian said, as he looked around. The inside of the place was just as tropical as the outside, but maybe even more so. The sofa was tan, but the chair and loveseat were covered with cream and brown palms. The walls were decorated with bamboo art and photo frames. The place was colorful, but nice with its island theme.

It hadn’t been offered, but Ian took a seat on the sofa anyway.

Marroe came into the living room with the tea. Ian took his glass and waited for Marroe to sit before he took a sip. The man he remembered wasn’t the man who sat to the side of him in a tropical chair. This man was older, grayed. His skin was loose, and his confident, intelligent demeanor was gone, replaced by that of a man who looked as if he wanted nothing to do with science let alone teach it, but the eyes were the same. The eyes held it all.

“Why did you just open the door for me? I could be here to hurt you.”

Marroe chuckled before placing his drink on a small stack of crossword puzzles. “If you really wanted to get in, we both know that door—or much else for that matter—wouldn’t have stopped you.”

A weird feeling coursed through Ian and the hairs on his neck stood up. He turned his head slightly and listened intently to the sounds in the house. The faint conversation on a television sitcom and the low buzzing of a ceiling fan came from one of the back rooms, the faucet in the kitchen dripped, and there was a distinct sound of something or someone other than him or Marroe, breathing. Was that the pet he’d heard earlier?

“Besides,” Marroe continued, “I’m seventy-three years old. I haven’t the energy to be scared of anything or anyone anymore. Not even you, Ian.” Marroe lifted his glass to his lips, giving Ian another look-over. “So, is it answers you seek, or are you the last person I’ll ever see?”

“Answers mostly,” Ian said plainly. “I need your help.” He had a few hours before he had to return to the small airport, so if he could get some insight on his uncle’s real work over the years, then maybe he could figure out a way to get him to help Aria and call off Jasper.

“I have answers, but not all of them. Since I get to live, I think you should meet Kermit. Come on in, Kermit,” Marroe called. A shuffle of noise drew Ian’s attention to the hallway that led to the back rooms. What he saw next wasn’t what he expected. A little macaque monkey with light brown hair scurried before moving in a blur of speed, much faster than a monkey should, across the floor. The monkey sat on the arm of the chair, next to Marroe. “This is Kermit,” Marroe said. “He’s like you.”

“Like me?” Ian questioned. Yeah, the monkey could move like him, but was the monkey capable of… Before he could ask for clarification, Ian was stunned into silence. He watched as Kermit stretched his arm out and a banana floated from the counter top in the kitchen into the animal’s hand. “How…?” he gasped.

Marroe peered at him with an amused expression. “Dear boy”—Marroe smiled—“I was there from the very beginning.” Marroe lifted his tea to his lips then placed it down on the crate-like coffee table. “Just like you, Kermit received Syn-Beta in utero. That makes you different from Vincent, who began using Syn-Beta well after he’d matured. Because your body was developing, the chemicals were able to alter your DNA, making you faster and stronger than Vincent and Jasper but also giving you some other talents.”

“Other talents?” Ian asked. “Really?”

Marroe nodded.

Ian wiped his hand over his face, telling himself to relax. He’d guessed that he’d been the subject of experimentation, but hearing it and knowing that his own uncle had been giving him the chemicals made him want to do bodily harm to everyone involved. But he needed answers and this man was willing to give them to him.

“Why?” he asked. His eyes burned with anger. His pulse raced. “How could my parents allow this? Why would my uncle do this to me?”

The glasses of tea began to jiggle, along with several items around the living room that weren’t weighed down. Kermit moved closer to Dr. Marrow as he eyed Ian suspiciously. “You have to calm yourself if you want to hear what I know,” Marroe said, as he stroked the monkey’s head.