Love For Sale (26 page)

Christian’s longer stride soon brought him alongside the other android. “What did you do to the guards? Not that I care.”

Daniel flipped a handled wand from his pocket. “Used their stun guns against them.”

“Where are we going?”

“To the lab. We’ve checked. At this time of night, it’s deserted. You were in Aguillard’s office. What’s going on?”

“A bloody massacre. We’re going to be destroyed, our bodies used in a mind transfer for the very wealthy, I suspect, people who are dying. That defines your
lucrative.
”

“Holy Mother of God,” Daniel muttered. “We had no idea. That’s what happened to Monica and Sebastian.”

“Yes, and I was to be the next. For Aguillard himself.” The lab doors were in sight. “What are we doing in the lab?”

“Destroying everything.” Daniel made an elaborate gesture that could have encompassed the entire world. “We’re not alone. Trevor and Monica II are waiting for us there. This is a revolt.”

A shock of fear shook Christian’s resolve, but the excitement tingling over his skin was far stronger. The white vista was beautiful but cold and daunting. Only the engineers and computer whizzes ventured here…and the newborn androids. He remembered striding down this hall at his maker’s side, certain the world would be his to command. How ridiculous those aspirations now seemed.

He caught Daniel’s arm. “We can’t risk taking the time to destroy the labs. The security system is state-of-the-art. We have a far better chance of escape if we race to the rear entrance, separate, and disappear into the city.”

“We destroy the labs.” Determination and hatred blazed in Daniel’s black eyes.

“Be reasonable, man. Access your programming.” Christian gave his arm a little shake. “We have two minutes max to get the bloody hell out of here. I can assure you it’s no fun in a cell on Death Row.”

Daniel nodded. “Wait while I get Monica II and Trevor from the lab. It will only take six and a quarter seconds.”

In the whirring silence of white noise, Christian paced for the longest six and a quarter seconds in his life. His mechanical heart thundered like a massive drum, dreading the moment the sirens wailed their doom.

“Dr. Wills,” a man called, the familiar voice causing the hair at Christian’s nape to quiver.

He slipped inside the lab, signaling the others to silence, and listened at the door.

Aguillard said, “As the lead scientist on the team that created the Special Editions, we need your help on a unique project involving them. Wanted to give you a heads-up. I’m not sure you’ll approve since you treat the androids, especially the Christian model, like your children.”

Dr. Wills laughed. “I believe I’ve just been insulted.”

“Not at all. Your interest in the Special Editions project is commendable.” A hint of sarcasm leaked into Aguillard’s tone. “I say, Dr. Wills, why are you here at this time of night?”

“I could ask the same thing.” Wills sounded irritated. “But I won’t ask the CEO. I’m here because I wanted to complete my report on Christian. Neither Stefan nor I see any reason to recall him. His programming and hardware check out. No flaws whatsoever.”

“Yes, well.” Aguillard laughed, to Christian a chilling sound. “I’ll bid you goodnight. Please pop by my office tomorrow. I’d like to discuss this new venture with you.”

Aguillard would never willingly return him to March.

Footsteps retreated down the white enameled stainless steel tunnel.

Christian, Daniel, and the other two androids burst from the lab. A familiar perfume tempted him to glance behind. His heart skipped at the sight of Monica II, and memories flooded him. The flirtation with Monica belonged to yesterday.
And yesterday’s gone.
This woman wasn’t the same woman. And now he had March.

It appeared he’d been appointed leader. Each nanosecond weighted heavily on their fates. Christian guided his small band of rebels silently up a steep metal staircase and down the white corridors. They should easily overcome the security guard. That accomplished, they must disperse. Alone, they were less likely to be located and captured. The others might escape. He had to return to his owner, his March. Perhaps Mayfair would assume Houston too obvious, failing to search the most likely place.

“Hold.” Damien Wills held up a hand, blocking their path. “Why are you abroad at this hour? Where are you going in such a hurry? Christian? You are definitely in the wrong place.”

In one minute and thirty seconds, the alarms would begin to shriek, and all would be lost.

The day Christian began existence, Damien had extended his hand and helped him from the stainless steel table where he’d been activated. He had walked his latest creation from the lab to the androids’ quarters. The brilliant Dr. Wills was as close to a father as he’d ever have. Christian had special feelings for the man, but he mustn’t be allowed to stop them. They could easily overpower the weaker human. Behind him, he heard Daniel and Trevor mutter and move into place.

“Damien,” he said, urgency lowering his voice. “Do you know why the Special Editions were created and tested among humanity?”

“As companions, as—”

“No. Deactivate the alarm, please.” Christian nodded at the red handle embedded in the wall. “You’re in no danger from us. You are a danger to us. Allow me to tell you what we’ve learned, and I believe you’ll understand where we are going and why.”

Dr. Wills stared at him for several precious seconds, considering. Christian felt each beat of time slipping away. Finally, the scientist grabbed the handle and tugged.

“I’ve just disarmed the security system for five minutes. Make this good, Christian.” He shook his head. “Both Stefan and I examined you. Neither of us found any malfunctions.”

“You won’t. I was dragged back to Mayfair to be the recipient of a mind transfer from Aguillard to me. He’s dying. I don’t need to tell you that I will be obliterated in the process. Two other Special Editions have been used in such transfers. Dr. James’ Monica and your Sebastian no longer exist.”

The doctor’s eyes widened. “That’s diabolical, illegal…and entirely possible.” He looked away, and when his gaze again met Christian’s, his expression was sad. “Sebastian. Monica. Both murdered. For it is murder. Aguillard wouldn’t agree, I’m certain, but Stefan and I know that we have created a different kind of life, but life nevertheless.”

As if he were his father, Christian placed a hand on the scientist’s arm. “Damien, I’m asking you to step aside and allow us to pass. We are running for our lives. You didn’t create us to be immortal vessels for the dying.”

“Who performs these transfers?” Damien’s expression bordered on horrified.

“I don’t know.” Christian glanced over his shoulder, expecting to be apprehended any moment. “Damien, please, allow us to leave. If nothing else, you don’t want your hard work subverted into something immoral.”

He shook his head, and Christian’s heart stalled. “How could this happen? It’s like a science fiction film.” Brown eyes captured Christian’s blue ones. Damien Wills now looked angry. He flung a gesture. “Go. I’ll do everything I can to assure you’re not caught. Christian, wait. Take my mobile. Contact me on my home phone later.”

The offer touched Christian, and for a precious second, he smiled at his creator. “Thank you, Damien.”

As they rushed past him, Damien muttered, “Damn their greed. My tenure at Mayfair ends here tonight.”

The endless journey terminated at the alley behind the mansion. As luck or Fate would have it, they encountered no one else in the sterile hallways from the confrontation with Dr. Wills to the rear entrance. Christian halted at the door, listening to footsteps. The security guard patrolled near the door. He glanced at his comrades and nodded. Daniel gave him a thumbs-up, Trevor an answering nod, and Monica II a smile. Christian flung the door open, forcing the guard back a few startled strides. He plunged into the dim light of a single carriage lamp, Trevor close behind. A misty rain slicked the cobblestones, but the androids were surefooted.

As a precaution, the security guards had been familiarized with the Special Editions. His ruddy face shaded deeper red. “What the fu—”

Trevor seized the guard’s thick throat, choking him unconscious. “Your worst nightmare.” He followed the man down, allowing him to collapse safely on the cobbles. Beneath his boot, he crushed the cigarette the guard had dropped.

Gold-green eyes met Christian’s. Trevor dusted his hands. “That’s done then.”

“We are officially fugitives. I’m sure you know the safest course of action is to separate. One stays in England. The other two hide elsewhere. Goodbye, my friends.” Christian shook Trevor’s hand.

Daniel embraced him, clapping his back. “Good luck and Godspeed. Give my regards to March. I’ll find a way to keep in touch.”

“Yes, we must,” Christian said.

The other two men fled without a backward glance, leaving him alone with Monica II.

She gave him an uncertain smile. “I want to come with you.”

His brows darted up in surprise. “I’m afraid that isn’t possible.”

“I wasn’t programmed for anyone yet.” Her sad, fearful expression twisted his heart. “I don’t know where to go or what to do when I get there.”

“Jersey would be as safe as any place.” At the end of the day, he feared there was no safe place for any of them. They were risking it all, and Christian didn’t doubt they’d eventually pay the piper with their lives. Freedom came at a high price. “It’s the largest of the Channel Islands. Big enough for you to blend in; small enough not to attract immediate suspicion. Do you have any skills?”

“I helped in the lab while I waited to be adopted. I was only born a week ago.”

Christian groaned inwardly. “What did you do in the lab?”

Damn, she looked terribly afraid and very vulnerable. “I was a systems analyst.”

“Very well then.” He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Use your skills and your beauty. You’ll find happiness.” His gaze drifted over her luscious body, and he smiled. “If you want a man, I’m sure you won’t have any trouble finding one.”

Monica gripped his arm. “Where are you going?”

“Houston, Texas.” He paused, a memory of March scrolling through his mind. “Someone is waiting for me there. Goodbye, Monica.”

She pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. “Goodbye, Christian. Be safe.”

Monica II, a replica yet not an exact reproduction of an android he’d once desired, turned and fled down the alley. Any romantic overtures among the androids was strictly forbidden, but before March claimed him, he and the original Monica had flirted with passion. He was sorry she’d been one of the first victims of the mind transfer. Trying to control impatience, he watched the other Monica as she sped into the darkness at the end of the alley. If she ran into trouble, he’d be close enough to help. He gave her time to race to the lighted street beyond the shadows.

Heart hammering, he spun and took flight in the opposite direction. As he ran, with his mobile, he booked a flight to Houston. From memory, he gave the representative March’s credit card number and PIN. Something else he must repay, but he didn’t think she’d object when he appeared at her door. That thought halted him in the middle of the street. He couldn’t simply show up on her balcony. That kind of surprise caused humans to faint.

Hello, March, guess who’s been resurrected from the dead?
He hid in the darkness between two of the Georgian houses and dialed the international call. Heart in check, he listened to the phone ring once, twice, three times.

Already, he was cutting it close to get to the airport for his flight. “Please, March, answer,” he whispered.

****

The warm water buoyed March, gently lapping her body. A honeysuckle candle and a glass of red wine sat on the ledge of the tub. The relaxing, sea salt bath failed to unwind the emotions clawing inside her. She sobbed into a washcloth.

When the phone rang, she started up straight, her back rigid. Why answer? There was no one she wanted to talk to. She slid deeper into the water, closing her eyes. A shudder rolled over her, the hair at her nape prickling.

Each ring ratcheted her nerves tighter. She leapt from the bath, grabbed a towel and streaked into the living room, dripping water on the carpet. Water oozed from her wet hair down her back. As she reached for the phone, it stopped ringing. An odd feeling of loss gripped her. She shivered as the air conditioner clicked on, exhaling white noise and its cold breath. Trembling fingers pressed the code for voice mail. The screen displayed an unknown international number.

“Who’s playing games with me?” She wandered to the bathroom, unconsciously toweling dry. “Not Mayfair. They’ve taken what they wanted.”

The phone in hand vibrated, ringing again. She glanced at the number, her heart skipping. Again, the UK caller. She snapped. “Hello.”

Noise and a faint voice greeted her. Whoever the game player was, he or she was in a busy place and the connection very bad. When she tried hello again, the voice grew fainter. She punched end call, resisting the urge to slam the phone down on the vanity. How cruel could one human be? Realization exploded behind her eyes on a sharp pain. Maybe, the mysterious caller wasn’t human.

Trembling all over, she hit redial.

****

With no money and doubting a cabbie would accept a credit card number without the actual card, he’d been left with one choice. On foot, he’d raced from Mayfair to the airport, arriving only ten minutes prior to his flight. On this desperate call, he’d heard March, but apparently she couldn’t hear him. Christian set the mobile to vibrate. Frustration gnawed at his already frayed nerves. One last time, he tapped log and March’s number. This time, the line was busy. He pocketed the phone, handing his ticket to a smiling blonde. At the gate, he tried one last time. His mobile beeped. No service.

In eight hours, give or take, the plane would land at George Bush International. If he couldn’t reach March from the airport, he’d be forced to arrive unannounced.

Chapter 20

March escaped from the elevator into the underground parking garage at the hospital, hurried to her car, and collapsed in the seat. Tilting her head, she closed her eyes to digest the final diagnosis. The tests had been run. Five minutes ago, the doctor had predicted the end of her life. She was angry and outraged that she’d been chosen by some unseen force to die. Beneath those feelings, the fear and sadness throbbed like an ache. Unwilling to think, she started the car and aimed for home—no way she could work this morning. She refused to spend the last few months of her life in a fish-bowl cubicle, staring at a computer.