Blowback (The Black Cipher Files Book 1) (30 page)

It was a kiss of intimacy.

He knew me. He understood I had an ironclad defense against a kiss that ravaged.

I controlled the tone of my sexual encounters. Our first time together had been quick and furious and frantic. If he had attempted the same physical contact, rejection would be easy, the embrace simple to deflect.

This was something completely different.

I couldn’t bring myself to stop him. His fingers feathered across my cheek, the tender erotic brush sent a shiver through me.

He stroked his hand down the outside of my thigh. The simple caress shouldn’t have had any effect but as he spread his fingers wide my body clenched in anticipation. His thumb slid along my hipbone then brushed lightly against the zippered placket. The touch, through two layers of clothes should have done no more than annoy, but my body remembered our second time, the clever slide and press of his fingers. Instinctively, my hips rose forcing the palm of his hand hard against the ridge of my pubic bone.

He felt so damn good. I stifled a moan as he pressed his hand upward, skimming the heel of his hand along the sensitive path to my navel.

I still gripped his shirt, bunched between my fingers as if I was a virgin waiting for her first sexual encounter. I tried to focus, tried to remember why this was a bad idea. But as his fingers traced over my collarbone and cupped my breast, my thoughts drifted away like smoke.

“Let me in.” His voice was husky, the soft rumble reverberated through me sending ripples of sensation over my skin.

He trailed wet, warm kisses along my jaw. His tongue slid down the curve of my neck as he rubbed his thumb along the valley between my breasts. Each time his hand swept closer to the part of my body aching for his touch.

I held my breath until finally he curved his hand around my breast. He squeezed gently and I let the air out on a sigh. His fingers teased my nipple, playing with the hard berry.

I hooked my arm around his neck and pulled him closer. Tracing the curve of his ear with the tip of my tongue, triumph surged through me when he groaned.

With my teeth I nipped my way down his neck. Tunneling my hands under his cotton shirt, I pressed my palms to his hot muscled chest. His stomach contracted against the scrape of my nails as I slid my hands down toward the waistband of his khakis. His erection pulsed against the strained zipper.

As if choreographed, together we rolled until he lay on top of me, his rock hard erection wedged into the tight v of my legs. He linked his fingers with mine and stretched out over me.

Oh, we had way too many clothes on. Arousal swept through me. My panties were wet and my hormones were locked and loaded.

“Nice weapon,” I murmured.

I flashed back to our first meeting and insight blinded me. The absolute insanity, the absolute weakness I’d felt. The crazy insane attraction that had struck like a lightening bolt.

“Weakness,” I murmured.

“What?”

“You’re a weakness.”

For a moment, Lucas looked pleased.

But I’d already segued to the next thought. Weakness was the word the warehouse guy had referenced. Twice.

I jackknifed into a sitting position, the bed squeaking as it rocked.

“Not now.” He scooted up, leaned his head back against the headboard and sighed. Heavily.

The mood was broken. I kept recalling what the old man in the warehouse had said. Weakness. Lucas was a weakness. The guy in the warehouse had thought so. Why was that?

People in my line of work, people in my position, couldn’t afford weaknesses. “We need to call Barb,” I said.

“If you insist.” Lucas dialed his cell, then handed the phone to me.

“Barb. Good. We caught you.”

“You helped Lucas with his problem?” Barb asked. She sounded tired.

“We’re really close to finding Johnny.”

I watched Lucas grabbed the pillow, turned it up on its side to use as a cushion, then leaned back against the iron bedframe. “Say hello.” I handed him the phone.

“Hey babe.”

Barb, the babe. I tried not to let the little surge of jealousy in but it snuck under my defenses.

“It’s late.” I heard her say, then her voice became indistinct. Lucas responded slowly to whatever she’d said, “Uh, yeah, it’s late here.” Guess old Barb knew we were together. He handed the phone back to me.

“Tell me what else you’ve been able to find out.”

“What do you know about chromosomes?”

“We’ve all got twenty-three pairs.”

“Right. Each chromosome has different functions.” She paused. “After looking at all of the data, it’s clear that the drug targeted chromosome 11, possibly the D4DR gene sequence. It looks like from the blood work that the alteration or manipulation worked differently on the different people.”

“What would the alteration do?” My brain clicked along at coming up with multiple scenarios–all of them bad.

“Well that particular sequence is believed to be responsible for confidence and fear levels.”

“Give me some ideas.”

“Without talking with the people involved it would be difficult to predict exactly what would happen.”

“Try.”

“We’re really just learning about the DNA strands. The Human Genome Project identified DNA sequences where there were mutations and changes but most body actions and reactions seem to have multiple DNA controlling strands. Take auditory processing for example--”

“Quit hedging and tell me what you really think.”

“I think that if it worked on the confidence center in the brain that it probably produced an extremely high level of confidence which would translate to an enhanced level of performance.”

“What’s the downside?”

“If you are afraid of something it probably produces a debilitating level of fear.”

Could that be why I was so off balance? Why I’d had this unusual and extreme reaction to Lucas Goodman? The knowledge gave me some comfort. The weakness was drug induced.

Until now I hadn’t really believed I’d had the drug. But the reality hit home.

“So if someone is given the original altering drug do they need the antidote or would the drug naturally work its way out of their system on its own?”

“It looks like this produces a permanent change.”

“So anyone injected with the original drug would need this antidote?”

“If I’m reading these DNA blood work-ups correctly.”

Shit. I had to focus on those kidnappings. The scientists had files on ten people but there were only seven known kidnappings, including mine. I needed to figure out the identity of the remaining people.

“One more thing.”

Those words were never a good omen. “What?”

“I don’t know if it matters or not but all of the subjects have similar DNA.”

“I thought all humans are 97% similar. I read that...somewhere.”

“True.” Barb hesitated. “But the three percent that determines where people evolved from is not always similar and all of these people–with the exception of the child are the same. Their ancestors were from Germany.”

“Back up, back up. Child?”

“Unh-huh. I double checked the birth dates because the data surprised me.” Barb reaffirmed, “One of the subjects is a five year old child.”

Who the hell would give a drug like this to a kid? Fanatics.

Then the other part of what she’d said registered. “Germany?”

“Looks to be.” Barb answered. “I had to do a little digging but I found the international database and compared the strands. Every single one is descended from that area.”

“We’re talking thousands of years back. Right?”

“Sometimes but based on the mutations, probably in the last two or three generations.”

That wasn’t right. My parents weren’t German. My mother had been Spanish and Dad was Scandinavian.

“Thanks.”

“You take care of Lucas,” she admonished.

I pressed the off button. Thought about Barb’s information. No wonder I was so damned off balance.

“We’d better get some sleep.” I lifted the covers and got underneath.

“Right.” He stretched out on top of the quilt and closed his eyes.

Lucas knew I’d use the drug as an excuse.

I lay there, my mind racing with thoughts and possibilities. I didn’t like the idea of this strange drug coursing through me. But it was nice to finally understand why I’d been feeling this way.

“Go to sleep, Jamie.”

But my mind wouldn’t shut off. I kept going through everything that had happened in the last few days and, I had to admit, with the exception of my reaction to Lucas, nothing else had seemed out of whack.

I must have dozed off because the chime of the computer interrupted my light sleep. I leapt off the bed and looked at the computer screen. “Shit, shit, shit.”

“What’s wrong?” Lucas sounded as alert as I was.

“Johnny a.k.a. Donald changed his plans.”

Lucas muttered a soft curse. “Where is he going?”

My heart stopped in my chest as I read the final line of the email. “He’s going to see Bella at the farm.”

Panic zoomed through me with the speed of a heat-seeking missile. I ran for my duffel bag, finger combing my hair.

“Calm down.”

“He isn’t getting anywhere near my sister.” Dammit.

“Jamie.” He curved his arm around my shoulders, pulling me back against his hard, lean body.

My chest heaved as I tried to draw in enough air. I targeted what I knew would appeal to Lucas rather than my initial panic about my sister. “We know where the bastard is going to be.”

“I’ll go get him,” he said.

I had to go. I shrugged out of his hold and yanked on my jeans.

“I thought your sister doesn’t know you’re alive.”

The sweater I tugged over my head stopped me from answering right away. When I yanked the wool to my waist, I stared at him, my eyes burning with fatigue and anguish. “I can’t let him near her.”

Lucas sighed and pulled on his khakis. “Okay. Let’s make tracks.”

An overwhelming relief cascaded through me. All these emotions. This was all a result of that stupid drug. As soon as I made sure Bella was safe, I was going to get that antidote.

THIRTY-THREE

Almost there.

Tension ratcheted through me as we passed the post office near Bella’s farm. “Right at the next stop sign.”

“How come you’re so familiar with the directions?”

I’d memorized the way to Bella’s home when she’d come to live here long ago. I had only allowed myself to come here once. I’d sat in my car, stared longingly at the old house and wished for a different life. But Lucas didn’t have to know that.

We drove through the tiny town in the pre-dawn darkness. Old fashioned street lamps threw beams of yellow light on carefully maintained storefronts and trendy little boutiques and restaurants.

It was picture perfect.

“Stay on this road for the next ten miles.”

The car twisted and turned as fingers of light spread across rolling green hills. The roiling in my stomach took new and violent rolls as the road dipped and curved.

A low stone fence separated the rustic road from the lush, verdant expanse of Bella’s farm. At the top of a hill, we had a perfect view of the house and driveway one hill over. I pointed to where I wanted Lucas to stop. “We can wait right here. Pull off onto the gravel.”

“Can we see the house from here?”

“Yeah. Up on the hill.”

“You okay?” He switched off the ignition and killed the headlights.

“Fine.” Or I would be, as soon as Johnny Wishbone/Donald Christian tried to approach the house and we nabbed him. Once he was in our possession we could find out what the hell he’d been doing with my sister.

Lucas reached in the back and pulled a pair of binoculars out of his duffel.

I needed to pace, to run. Something to ease the tension and fear screaming through me.

I sat perfectly still.

Lucas cleared his throat. “Nice place.”

“Yeah.” It was. I wanted to look through the binoculars, to catch a fleeting glimpse of Bella through the window. I wanted it so badly I clenched my teeth until my jaw ached.

“He’s already here.”

“What?” I snatched the binoculars from him and jammed them against my eyes.

We were too late. There it was. Sitting in the driveway.

A car. Not Bella’s S-type Jaguar. An innocuous Ford Escort. The perfect college car. The perfect government-issue car. I’d had one myself when I’d been going to classes at SpyU.

My blood congealed in my veins. My fingers clenched the binoculars so tightly I thought the plastic casing might crack. My breath stalled in my throat, a lump so huge I didn’t think I’d ever breathe again, blocked the passage of air. Anger, frustration built like the pressure in a shaken coke can ready to spew.

I had to focus, had to think. I needed Bella to be safe from Johnny, from the government that wanted to use her the way they used me. But all I could do was stare at the simple car. That car represented danger.

“I have to go in.” The words came out as a whisper. I couldn’t seem to make my voice any louder.

“Just me.” Lucas pried my fingers off the binoculars and held onto my hands.

“No.” What if the kid went crazy and went after Lucas? He wouldn’t be expecting it.

He knew my logic. “Jamie. I know this kid. I’m his godfather, for Chrissake.”

“You don’t know what his mission parameters are.”

“I’ll be fine.”

I ignored him. “We need to go now. Before he does anything to her.” Convinces her to throw away her life, to work for the agency, to give up all the things I’d given up to secure her future.

“Watch through the binoculars.”

I didn’t trust him not to be swayed by this kid. I didn’t trust anyone but me to get rid of Johnny and eliminate the threat. “I’m going.”

“This isn’t a good idea. Your sister thinks you’re dead.”

“I realize that.” She wouldn’t recognize me. “She hasn’t seen me since she was five years old.”

If she did somehow recognize me, shock would be her first reaction. And I realized, I might finally see my sister, touch her, hug her. Joy burst in me like fireworks on July fourth.

“Stop smiling,” Lucas said harshly.

“I can’t.” My cheeks refused to listen even though I knew Lucas was right. “Let’s go.”