Agent U7: Keegan (The D.I.R.E. Agency Series Book 7) (5 page)

Chapter 5

“According to the tracker, we show three readings against Cyrus’s DNA.” Mitchell glanced up at the operations room monitor. “You, Cyrus and one in south Texas.”

Clint stared at the screen, disbelief rendering him lifeless. Was he really sitting there discussing his biological tie to Cyrus Matheson? This had to be the act of some kind of mind-altering serum or drug.

“You’re certain of this…” He spoke over a lump in his throat, his gaze sliding from Mitchell standing beside the desk to Hope sitting behind it.

She frowned as she studied the results. As the inventor of the tracker, the Powers International liaison was the only other person allowed in the room. As soon as Clint had surrendered, Mitchell got him out of the party room with haste. They had worked together long enough for his boss to know that Clint Robinson didn’t give up—
ever
. He wouldn’t be where he was today if he had an aptitude for quitting.

Her pale, round eyes were lined with sympathy. “The results don’t lie.”

“But, obviously, one of my parents does—or did.” Clint turned away in disgust.

Why would he think their affairs started after they were married? Even with his knowledge of their varied relationships, they still proved him naïve.

“Or, you could be adopted.” Hope’s tone held a matter-of-fact logic.

Adopted. The thought had never entered his mind. He’d always assumed he was the biological child of Russell and Carol Robinson. He’d seen photos of himself as a baby with both of his parents. Maybe, Hope was right.

She said, “It is odd that your parents aren’t in the database.”

Which made it more likely one of them was involved with Cyrus.

Dropping back in his chair, he blew out a breath. “At this point, I don’t know what to believe.”

Mitchell’s business-like tone spoke volumes. “So, you had no idea you were related?”

A trail of pain blazed through his gut like a lit fuse. To think his boss could ask such a question made him realize his life had changed forever. A few hours earlier, he was the source of D.I.R.E.’s power. Now, he was a tie to their demise.

“No. None.”

When Keegan had told him he reminded her of Cyrus, it made him angry.
Furious
. He’d wanted nothing to do with the likes of Matheson.

Yet, they were related.

The knowledge made him ashamed of who and what he was, of his roots and all that had once been a well of pride. “I think the quickest way to get to the bottom of this is to call my mother.”

“Will she tell you the truth?” Hope sat back and crossed her arms over her middle.

Frowning, Clint ran his hands through his hair. While he and his mother hadn’t been close since the accident, he’d never questioned her honesty. Carol Robinson wasn’t one to beat around the bush or save his feelings. In fact, she was brutally candid most of the time. No pleasant, bedside manner existed within her character.

In reality, her tough demeanor had prepared him for life, had prepared him for situations where his back hit wall and he had no choice but to come out fighting, or lose. It may have been a harsh, backward way to do things, but it had worked.

It worked now.

He gave a despondent shrug.

“Furthermore,” Mitchell said, “If she’s involved, we don’t want to let on that we know. Obviously, she didn’t want you to know.”

Elbows on the desk, Clint leaned his forehead in his hands. He hadn’t considered that. Could his mother be involved in destroying D.I.R.E., knowing he worked for the agency? Could she be part of this lunacy of serums, cloning and new world order?

It made sense. She was a brilliant scientist. She would be an asset to such a cause. However, if it proved to be a former mistress of his father, she may not be aware Clint was involved with the agency at all. Then again, if she had access to the technology that had been used against D.I.R.E. to date, he’d find that hard to believe.

Hope said, “I think you both need to consider that Clint could be related to Cyrus through a parent that isn’t involved in this at all. We know nothing about Cyrus’s parents. Only his grandfather.”

“True.” Mitchell folded his arms over his chest. “Until we’d captured him, there was no record of him in any government database. At least, not under that name. Now that we’ve run his DNA through the database, we’ve found you and one other person, most likely a parent or step sibling, based on the yellow source. He’s not alone.”

Mitchell smothered a yawn. “We’ll look into it more tomorrow. Right now, we all need to get some rest. We have a big day tomorrow.”

In one way or another.

“Are you going to lock me up here?” Standing, he stiffened, bracing himself for Mitchell’s orders. “Obviously, I can’t stay with Keegan. She’ll kill me in my sleep.”

After that disconcerting kiss in the hallway, her public denouncement had knocked his feet out from under him. It still bewildered him that she could kiss him with staggering passion one moment, and throw him to the wolves, the next. She should’ve never kissed him if she’d had any doubt whatsoever.

Which made him just another man in a string of men yet to come. The idea infuriated him. He wasn’t out for a one-night stand. His plans were to find the right woman and get married. He’d had no business kissing her like that. She stood for everything he didn’t want.

Either way, it would never happen again.

Tristan’s voice came over the intercom. “Mitchell.”

“Yes?”

“I want Robinson to stay with me and Rachel.”

“I was going to offer the same thing.” Dylan’s voice came over the line before Mitchell could respond.

Hope smiled up at him while the other super agents chimed in with the same sentiment. Clint’s shoulders relaxed. Despite the uncertainty of his family, he wasn’t in this alone. His friends supported him, believed in him. They were his true family, not this charade of yellow dots.

Mitchell spoke around a slight grin. “Robinson, looks like y’all are having a slumber party.” He clapped him on the back. “We’ll get back on this after the wedding. I’m going to keep extra security on you, for your own safety. If this Madam wants Teague Hamilton, she could be interested in you, too. You’re a valuable weapon, yourself.”

* * *

Bright light penetrated Keegan’s eyelids like a beacon in the darkness. It couldn’t be daylight yet. She just went to sleep.

Frowning at the intrusion, she blinked open her eyes. Blinding pain seared her forehead before she slammed her eyes shut. Throbbing mimicked the pounding on her door, as she pulled the covers over her head. The pain faded into the blankets.

“Keegan, you up? My hairdresser is waiting downstairs…with mimosas.” Hope ended the sentence with a sing song lilt.

She bolted upright in bed.
The wedding
.

Shit
.

Jumping out of bed, she stubbed her toe on the footboard. Pain exploded in her foot, waking the giant that stomped around in her skull. Hopping on one foot, she cursed aloud before answering the door.

Hope’s wide-eyed gaze gave her a full once over. “You’re not even dressed?”

Keegan leaned her head against the door frame. That bottle of wine she’d snatched from the restaurant had been a mistake.

Hands on hips, Hope said, “You were so gung ho on this wedding and now you’re
late
?”

“I know, I know—” She moaned into the hallway, where two D.I.R.E. agents stood at ease, trying to hide their smiles.

“Don’t
I know
me. Move it. You’ll have to be the last one.” She started down the hallway. “Hurry up,” she said over her shoulder. “We’re in the ballroom.”

Giving the agents a sheepish grin, she shut the door and ran to the bathroom. Stripping off her clothes, she jumped in the shower. Under the warm, soothing spray, she verbally willed away her headache and toe pain, while her mind had other ideas.

Clint. His slow, exciting, perfect kiss.

His brilliant, disloyal deceit.

How could none of them have seen it when it had niggled at her conscience from the beginning? Why hadn’t she acted on it?

When he’d held her in his strong arms, so warm, so comforting, so
arousing
, she’d wanted to stay there forever. That kind of contentment had never been a part of her life. It’d held her dazed, spellbound, his kiss a long, thorough experiment in itself.

She should’ve known it was too good to be true.

Stepping out of the shower, she dried herself, her headache ebbing to a dull ache. Drinking herself into denial wasn’t the answer. However, it had all been so fresh, the fact so painful it had blindsided her with the force of an angry linebacker. Her mind still teetered from denial to burning truth.

Now that she’d tasted peace, she wanted it. She wanted that seclusion from the world, wanted to know it was there for her to sneak into when the need arose. After today, she would work with D.I.R.E. to make it happen. They would destroy Cyrus and the Madam so she could finally relax and enjoy a world without their dangerous threats.

A few minutes later, she grabbed her makeup bag and clutch, and flung open the door. With a quick nod to the agents, she hiked up her long, burgundy halter dress and rushed to the elevator. The agents filed in beside and behind her like a centipede in motion.

The words escaped before she could stop them. “Is Dr. Robinson in the building?”

“Yes,” said the agent to her left. “He’s upstairs with the super agent team.”

Mitchell didn’t see fit to incarcerate him. What a mistake.

The elevator dinged when they reached the ground floor. Exiting, she raced down the wide hall to the ballroom, her heels echoing off the marble floor. Natalie was not going to be happy. Hopefully, those mimosas would soften the blow.

Shoving open the door, she stopped short, the scent of oranges stopping her dead in her tracks.

They were gone.

With slow steps, she walked into the room as she dialed Natalie’s number. The phone rang a few feet away, where it lay on a table littered with hairspray, brushes and several, half-full mimosa goblets. Her heart pounded against her chest as reality set in.

Whipping around, she screamed at the agents, several of whom were already running from the room. “Call Riordan.
Now
.”

Rummaging around the tables and chairs, she picked up the abandoned phones as she looked for clues to what had happened. One of agents spoke in hushed tones as a green fog appeared in the middle of the room. A bright flash of light blinded her, before Tristan and Riordan appeared out of nowhere.

“They’re gone,” she said, fighting the wobble in her voice.

Tristan gave the room a quick, visual sweep before he turned his hard glare on her. “Why are you still here?”

She lifted her chin, while her stomach sank. “I was running late.”

Riordan ran from the room, Tristan on his heels. The other super agents met them in the hallway before they ran to the back of the hotel. Keegan followed, trying to keep up in her heels and full skirt. They asked the posted agents if they had seen them.

“Yes,” one of them said. “The limo picked them up about fifteen minutes ago.”

Limo? The limo wasn’t expected for another hour and then, they had a D.I.R.E. agent assigned to drive.

“Did you get a license plate number?” she blurted, drawing the attention of the nervous agents surrounded by enhanced colleagues.

They shook their heads. “No, we knew a limo was scheduled so we didn’t question it.”

She knew that Mitchell was prone to unknown changes in schedule, just to keep bad guys guessing. If she knew, the agents had to be used to it.

“Who was with them?” Riordan said, his tone harsh, his magnetic hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. “Did they take them by force?”

The agent’s partner shook his head. “No. The limo driver was a chick. She held open the door for them, they piled in and left.” He looked at his partner for confirmation. “It all looked legitimate.”

A groan carried from the other side of a nearby dumpster. In unison, they whipped around and rushed across the back lot. Another groan followed before a muffled cry. Finding a stack of wood pallets, Jaydan threw several behind them, clearing the area to discover the hairdresser lying on her back. The agents squatted down to help her.

Keegan’s phone rang in her hand, startling her. She looked at the screen.
Private
. Pressing the connect button, her stomach swirled as her gaze connected with Riordan’s.

“Hello?”

“Keegan, my love?”

A sizzle of fear slithered down her spine as reality set in. Her breath came in short spurts, her body quaking from head to toe. She shook her head in denial. “
No
.”

“Yes, it’s me, my love.” Cyrus said, his voice filled with tearful relief. “Thank God. I’ve missed you so much.”

“Cyrus,” she whispered, her hand going to her forehead, her mind reeling in disbelief.