Safe (The Shielded Series Book 1) (9 page)

“It’s not my blood.” Both males exhaled loudly in relief as Homer came up
and sniffed at her shirt then licked her arms. Rubbing the dorse until its eyes
squeezed shut, she said, “I came upon Estoria over there and she gave birth.
The baby was dead just as Foster said it would be.”

“Poor girl,” Ghared said.

Zeke pulled her into another hug. Bless him. “That had to be tough to
witness.”

She nodded against his shoulder then craned her head back to look him in
the eye. “I know I didn’t give birth to you, but you know you’re mine, right? I
love you as if you’re mine.”

He gave her one of his full blown smiles—the ones that were like sunshine
in the gray city. “I know. You’re mine too, Mom. Always.”

Ghared threw his arms around both of them. “This is so beautiful.” He
made his voice all weepy, and the three of them ended up laughing as Homer
nudged his way into their circle.

With an elbow to Ghared’s stomach, Darina broke up their little huddle.
“Okay, back to the business at hand.”

“Protecting Doctor Cure the World?” Ghared made a face Darina wasn’t sure
how to interpret.

“Protecting Foster, yes. Pike told me there are others here who want to
join the team and they have weapons.”

“Excellent. The more eyes and guns we have here, the better.”

Darina wondered if more eyes meant fewer opportunities for kissing the
good doctor. It probably did. It definitely should.

But it wasn’t what she wanted.

Foster surveyed his worktable covered in various bottles, beakers, and
strewn about ingredients. He tapped a finger on the edge of the table while he
waited for his latest cure attempt to mix in the centrifuge. He already had a
Petri dish ready with some of the powder sample he’d taken from an infected
body in the city. He’d tried four other formulas this evening, but none of them
affected the sample the way he wanted them to.

None of them were The Cure.

The centrifuge stopped spinning and he carefully removed the vial. Taking
a medicine dropper, he sucked up the solution and squirted a few drops onto the
sample. He slid the Petri dish under his high-powered microscope and peeked
through the eyepiece.

Some bubbling occurred.

The red powder turned pink.

The pink gelled, solidified.

Foster held his breath.
Please work. Please.

The gelled sample fizzled then turned to black ash.

“Fuck.” He slammed his hand down on the table, making all the bottles and
beakers rattle like glass chimes in the wind.

Picking up his tablet, he hit the microphone app and said, “Test #4773,
solution successfully reversed red powder to pink gel consistent with normal
human organs. After regeneration, however, sample was reduced to black ash.” He
sniffed and wrinkled his nose. “And there’s a sharp, unpleasant odor.”

He tossed his tablet to the table and stared at all the ingredients he
had already tried. The combinations were endless. He’d need a thousand
lifetimes to test them all.

No. Just be smart about the test combinations.

Some things could be eliminated. He could narrow the parameters.

He could do this, dammit. He could keep innocents from dying.

He had to.

But not tonight. His eyesight had gone blurry with concentration, and his
back and neck hurt from being hunched over the worktable for so long. He didn’t
even know what time it was.

Had Darina finished outlining her security strategy? He’d had to push her
out of his mind while he worked. Not an easy task by any means. Especially not
after kissing her as he had. He was surprised she’d let him kiss her. Darina
didn’t strike him as a woman who let anyone do anything to her.

So she must have
wanted
that kiss. My kiss.

That thought filled him with satisfaction despite his failed cure
attempts tonight. What else might she want from him?

Deciding he’d like an answer to that question, he powered down his
equipment and capped any opened bottles. He’d come back to the lab early
tomorrow and work nonstop until he found that damn cure.

After making sure his tablet was in his pocket and his lab was locked, he
climbed the stairs and wandered into an empty kitchen. Darkness hung outside
like a black curtain over the main house, but he heard voices. Following the
sound, he found Darina and Ghared talking to a group outside on the deck under
the floodlights. Homer was lounging on the deck by Ghared’s feet. Foster
listened for a few moments from the shadows of the great room.

“So is everyone set with what quadrant they are covering when?” Ghared
asked, sounding like a military general.

A few confirmations filtered through the group.

“I think the schedule we’ve agreed upon will offer continual coverage
without taxing any of us. We’ll always have someone fresh on guard, especially
around this main house,” Darina said. The official tone to her voice made
Foster instantly hard. He’d had no idea that a woman in charge would be such a
turn on for him.

A shrill chiming sounded and Ghared pulled a tablet out of his pocket.
The man stepped off the deck and roamed away a few steps. Homer got to his feet,
stretched his hind legs, and followed the man.

Darina’s gaze followed Ghared then focused back on the group. “Okay,
let’s get the first watch set up on the perimeter. Second and third watches go
get some sleep.”

Muffled agreement sounded and the group dispersed. Some of them didn’t go
far and Foster assumed they were the first watch. The others headed for their
cabins. Something warm swelled in his chest at his people’s—his
friends’
—willingness
to protect him.      

Darina caught him standing at the door. “Hey.”

It was a simple greeting, but the way she said it, the way her eyes
scanned over him, made it seem like the most intimate greeting in the universe.

His gaze traveled down to the blood on her tank top.
Blood?

“What happened?” He stepped out onto the deck and pointed to her shirt.

She looked down. “Oh, that’s from Estoria. She gave birth earlier. I
asked if she wanted me to get you, but she declined.”

Foster raked his hand through his hair and leaned against the railing
beside her. “Was it another stillborn?”

Darina nodded. “A girl.”

Wanting to change the subject to keep from feeling frustrated he couldn’t
help Estoria, he scanned the assembled people fanned out around the house.
“Looks as if you’ve made a security team.”

“They volunteered to be one. I’d be foolish to refuse their help. They
know the land, they know how to defend themselves, and you mean a great deal to
each one of them.” She folded her arms across her chest. “I almost
want
Warres to show up.”

“Why hasn’t anyone gone after him?” Foster asked. “Wouldn’t it be
easier?” If he were in police custody, maybe they could get the damn cure right
from him.

“There are people assigned to trying to locate him, but as you’ve said,
he’s brilliant. No one can find him. We can’t even get our hands on his
minions.” She puffed out a frustrated breath. “Our best bet is neutralizing his
plague. I think that will bring him out into the open if he knows we can
reverse his handiwork.” She glanced up at Foster. “Any luck on that front?”

“Not today. Sorry.” His shoulders slumped.

She reached out a hesitant hand then gripped his forearm. “You’ll get
it.”

“What if I don’t?”

“I’ll kick your ass.”

He laughed, tension leaching out of his body.

“Hey, that was supposed to be a threat. No laughing matter.” 

But when he looked at her, she was smiling and thoughts of kissing her
rushed into his mind again.

As if reading his thoughts, she warned, “We’re not alone out here.”

Not
I don’t want you to kiss me
. That encouraged him. “Then let’s
go in there.” He pointed to the main house.

She opened her mouth to reply, but boots on the deck steps interrupted
her, and she peered around Foster. “Ghared? Everything okay?”

“When is everything ever okay?” He ran his hands over Homer who had
apparently nominated the man as his new best friend. “That was Mareea.” He
looked at Foster. “My niece. Her mother, my dumbass sister, has been gone for
five days.”

“That’s long even for her,” Darina said. “Mareea is worried?”

Ghared scrubbed a hand down his face and around his whiskered jaw. “Yeah.
She’s convinced this is the big one.”

“Big one?” Foster asked.

“The time my sister doesn’t come back at all.” Ghared sighed. “I’ve got
to go back, Darina.”

“Of course.” She waved a hand to the team surrounding the main house. “We’ve
got things under control here.”

Ghared threw a look at Foster then turned his gaze back to Darina.
“You’re sure you’ll be all right.”

“Are you doubting my skills, man?” She grinned and gave him a light punch
in the shoulder.

“Never. I do, however, doubt his ability to keep his han—” His words got
cut off by Darina’s hand over his mouth.

“Do not finish that sentence unless you want to fly home with a black
eye,” she said.

“I’ll second that,” Foster said, though he rather enjoyed that Ghared
could see something happening between him and Darina. It meant Foster wasn’t
imagining that spark.

Ghared moved Darina’s hand and stepped around her to get toe-to-toe with
Foster. The guy wasn’t taller, but he was wider and had a wild look in his eye.
One that made that scar on his cheek even fiercer. Foster wasn’t sure what to
expect next.

Homer growled and Foster was glad to see the dorse’s loyalty still resided
with him.

“If you hurt her in any way, Ashby, any way at all,” Ghared warned, “a
black eye will seem minor compared to what I’ll do to you.”

“Okay.” Darina got between them. “That’s enough. We’re all on the same
side here. Remember?”

So she’s joined my team.
Foster remembered her saying she was her
own team this morning.

She backed Ghared up several steps, and Foster smiled over the fact that
she wasn’t backing
him
up anywhere.

Ghared picked up on that too and gave Foster another warning. This one
was silent and in the form of a dagger-sharp glare.

Message received.
He wasn’t guaranteeing he’d listen to it, though.

“You want me to take Zeke back with me?” Ghared asked, turning his icy
blue gaze back to Darina.

She faced Foster, and he readied to give her the bottle of seizure
medicine still in his pocket. “If it’s all right with you, Foster, I’d like
Zeke to stay. He’s enjoying being with other GECs. It’s good for him.”

“Completely fine with me. He’s welcome here.” Having her son stay felt
like a big win for some reason. Foster liked the kid and wanted the chance to
talk to him more.

“You have a way we can reach each other?” Ghared asked. “If I hear
something in the city about Warres or if you need me?”

“I can give you the number for my tablet, but you have to memorize it,”
Foster said. “I’m not writing it down, and I don’t want it stored in your
tablet.”

He rattled off the number and Ghared repeated it several times,
committing it to memory.

With a hug and some whispered secret in Darina’s ear, Ghared disappeared
into the darkness.

“He won’t fly directly home from here, will he?” Foster asked.

“Give him some credit, Foster,” Darina said. “He’s smarter than that.”

Foster nodded, a muscle spasming in his sore neck as he did so. He
brought his hand up to massage the ache, but the twitching continued.

“Your neck hurt?” Darina asked.

“It’s from leaning over my worktable for so long.” He turned his head one
way then the other, looked down, looked up, but the ache persisted.

A low rumble sounded a short distance away and after a few gaspy revs of
the engine—and a few loud dorse neigh-barks, Ghared’s hovercopter ascended. He
hadn’t put any lights on, and Foster knew he’d been foolish to worry the man
would be detected. Ghared Timms might not give a shit about Foster’s safety,
but he wouldn’t want to lead the enemy to Darina.

When the engine noise died away and Homer came loping back to the deck,
Foster felt Darina’s hand on his. “Maybe I could help you with that neck pain.
You know, in there.” She motioned to the darkened main house.

He didn’t need to hear that suggestion twice to know it was a fantastic
idea. “Homer, let’s get you put to bed, buddy.”

“I’ll take care of it,” a voice said from below the deck. A whistle
sounded and the dorse took off.

Taking her hand in his, Foster turned toward the house and led her inside
to the great room.

Darina cast a glance to the wall of windows. “Do you have a more private
location?”

Without a word, he tugged her down the hallway to his library. He wanted
to scoop her up and take her to his bedroom but knew she’d find that too
forward. That was what a rich bastard would do. Take command without regard for
the other person’s wishes. He was determined not to play that role.

“This room okay?” he asked.

She took in the floor to ceiling bookshelves, crammed with various genres
of literature. He liked the look of old-fashioned books, though most of his
reading—which he didn’t have time for anymore—took place on his tablet. An oversized
couch upholstered in soft suede took up the center of the room while a walnut
desk stood in front of a large window. Two smaller suede chairs flanked a
reading table sporting a lamp in the corner.

“This room is perfect.” She pushed him to sitting on the edge of the
couch then climbed behind him.

Just having her that close aroused him. When her hands kneaded the
muscles at the base of his neck, he slipped into an alternate world.

One he didn’t want to leave.

****

Foster’s shoulders were broad, and as her hands kneaded them, Darina
could think of only one thing—removing his shirt so she could touch his bare
skin. The desire to feel him against her own skin overwhelmed her. Never had
she wanted fabric to disintegrate so badly.

A low moan escaped from Foster as she worked on a particularly hard knot
at the base of his neck. His fingers gripped the edge of the cushion he sat on,
and Darina wondered if he wanted to get naked as much as she did.

Only one way to find out.

“You’re really tight up in here.” She poked her index fingers into his
trapezius muscles. Taking in a breath, she let it out slowly and decided to go
for it. “Take your shirt off so I can—”

Foster yanked his shirt off before she finished her sentence. “Don’t even
care what your reason is.” He grinned at her over his right shoulder.

Hopefully someone would come by and mop the melted puddle she’d become
behind him on the couch. Between his grin, the gorgeous pale green of his eyes,
the bare expanse of his back, and the sexy way his tattoo swirled down over his
shoulder, she was quickly losing her grip on reality. Surely, she’d slipped
into a fantasy.

“Are you going to drool over me or rub some aching muscles, Officer
Lazitter?” he teased.

“I don’t drool.”

“I think if the roles were reversed right now, I’d definitely be
drooling.” He started to turn around, but she gripped his shoulders to keep him
facing forward.