I Spy a Wicked Sin (17 page)

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Authors: Jo Davis

Tags: #American Light Romantic Fiction, #Erotica - General, #Fiction - Adult, #Assassins, #American Mystery & Suspense Fiction, #Romantic suspense fiction, #General, #Romance, #Erotic fiction, #Suspense, #Erotica, #Fiction

BOOK: I Spy a Wicked Sin
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Lily was hanging out with Liam in the kitchen, watching him cook breakfast, when Jude staggered in.
He looked like death.
“Hey, big guy! Ready for some bacon—” Liam turned and his eyes widened at the sight of Jude disheveled, white as a sheet.
“Liam,” he rasped. “I’m sick. . . . I hurt so fucking bad. . . .”
“Shit!” The younger man lunged for Jude as he crumpled to the floor, but he was too far away.
Jude’s head smacked the tile with an awful thump, cane clattering from his outstretched hand. Carefully, Liam pulled Jude into his arms, smoothing the long auburn hair from his face.
“Jude!” he cried, pressing shaking fingers to the side of the other man’s neck. “Oh, my God, his heart is racing. His pulse is too fast.”
Lily dropped to her knees beside them, checking for herself. “I agree. I think we should take him to the emergency room. I’ll drive.”
A safe bet, since the doctors wouldn’t find anything in his blood. They would be puzzled, but would say he’d picked up a bug and send him home, telling them to put him to bed.
Liam only nodded, face panicked. He stood, lifting his burden, practically carrying the larger man by himself to the Mercedes while she turned off the burners under their breakfast.
Between the two of them, they managed to get him into the back seat of the car, Liam cradling his head in his lap. Jude’s friend was inconsolable, widening the crack in her heart.
“Please be okay,” he whispered, over and over. “Don’t you die on me and leave me all alone. Not now.”
They arrived at the nearest hospital in fifteen minutes, Lily screeching to a stop outside the ER. The first dose had hit him harder than she’d thought it would; the third would probably kill him outright.
A doctor and a couple of nurses came running with a gurney and whisked their patient inside. Liam stared after them, devastated. Lost.
Only then did she realize her face was wet, too.
“Mr. St. Laurent?”
The greeting was strange. Distorted. He was underwater, struggling to the surface. Almost there, but not quite.
Blackness.
Next time, he was more aware. Heard them discussing blood tests. Heart rate. Other terms that escaped him.
“Mr. St. Laurent?”
He licked his dry lips. “Yes.”
“Good, you’re back!”
Whoop-dee-fucking-do.
“I’m Dr. Cline. How do you feel?”
“Chewed up and shit out,” he croaked. “What happened?”
“That’s what we’d like to know. Other than an elevated pulse and a bit of a temperature, we can’t find a thing wrong with you,” he said, sounding both positive and concerned at the same time.
How did doctors do that?
“Flu?”
“Nope. We did tests for types A and B, and got nothing. No infection, either. At this point, I’m leaning toward some sort of bug you’ve picked up that our tests aren’t catching,” the doctor said. “There’re so many different strains of things going around, it’s a process of elimination sometimes.”
“You gonna keep me here?”
“Honestly, I don’t see why you can’t go home. Get plenty of bed rest for a couple of days, drink lots of fluids, take ibuprofen. If you aren’t up to speed in two days, see your private physician and he’ll order a whole battery of tests to start narrowing this down.”
“All right. Can I go now?”
“Let us get your paperwork together. As soon as the nurse brings it, and if you can walk without getting dizzy, you’re set to go. I’ll send in your friends, too. They seem quite anxious.”
That news warmed him some. “Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it; just get well.”
Shortly after the doctor left, more people shuffled to his side. He didn’t have to wonder for long who was there.
“Jesus Christ, I thought you were going to die on me,” Liam said, obviously upset. A hand squeezed his shoulder.
Jude mustered a smile. “Nah, I’m too mean to kick it anytime soon.”
“We’re glad you’re better,” Lily said.
She sounded weird, and his smile faltered. “Me, too. I still hurt, but not as bad.”
“Think you can walk?” Liam asked.
“I’ll try.”
“Good, because you’re one heavy SOB.”
The checking-out process took ages, but finally they were on their way out, his friends on either side, guiding him. The dizziness and nausea had faded to a dull annoyance, and he was glad. But the aching in his bones was something else. He didn’t complain, though, saw no reason to worry them.
He dozed on the way home and it seemed seconds had passed before they pulled into the drive. By the time they got him inside, up to his room, and undressed, he felt like he’d run the Boston Marathon.
“Sorry, guys,” he said, settling under the covers with a sigh. “This isn’t the way I planned to spend today, especially after such an awesome night.”
Liam stroked his hair. “Don’t worry, boss. Just rest.”
Unable to do much else, he did.
Lily turned away from the sight of Jude lying there, dusky lashes resting on his pale cheeks, smudges under his eyes. She didn’t know if she could do this. Carry this out to the end.
One thing for sure—either way, this was her last assignment as an assassin.
The decision had been surprisingly easy. Watching Liam curled up in a chair in the corner of the ER, arms around his knees, sweet face wretched with worry, she’d known.
After this, no more.
Leaving the two men alone, she pocketed her cell phone and went outside on the pretext of taking a walk. The gardens out behind the pool would hide her well enough and afford some privacy.
She already had one message from Dietz and it wasn’t wise to disappear on him. Stalling him would have to be done another way—by lying her ass off.
Placing the call, she was numb inside rather than nervous.
“What do you have, Agent?”
Nothing but contempt for you.
“I administered the first dose, and it affected him more strongly than I’d believed. He’ll be dead by the third.”
“Excellent. What else?”
“I breached his war room, and it’s quite a setup. Looks like the cockpit of a frigging airplane. If he’s hidden one of the files there, I wasn’t able to locate it yet. It will take a few more days.”
“Agent Vale,” he said casually, “I do believe you’re lying to me.”
Her gut lurched. “I’m not. I worked all night at each of the hard drives. His shit is well protected.”
“You’ve never needed a few days to complete a task.”
“I do now.”
A weighty silence.
“I want that file on Friday. Find the bastard.”
She ended the call without saying good-bye, and hung her head. The urge to phone Michael again was overwhelming, but she’d had no success so far and she didn’t see that changing. She couldn’t give SHADO’s code for an emergency when she didn’t even know if there
was
an emergency.
Soon, very soon, she was done.
A true nightmare this time, not a memory.
He was lost, stumbling along a dried, barren lake bed.
Well, barren except for the fish. Miles of fish, as far as the eye could see, mouths gaping, gills expanding, as they struggled for breath that would never come. Eyes popping out. Staring. Scaly, stinky bodies baking in the scorching heat.
Mesmerized, he halted and stared down at one of the dying fish.
“Join us in the boneyard,” it said. “You belong here.”
He stumbled backward, intending to run. But his feet were stuck, sinking into the ground. . . .
“No!”
“No!” Jude shot upright, gasping. Horrible images from his sleep gave way to blessed reality and he shuddered, willing them to abate.
“Jesus Christ, what
was
that?”
The virus, or whatever, must’ve really done a number on him.
After he showered and dressed, he felt much better, weird fucking nightmare aside. Almost human. The dizziness and nausea of yesterday’s attack were gone, and he wasn’t hurting as much. He was more tired of lying around than he was from the twenty-four-hour bug he’d gotten, and he was ready to do something. Anything.
Liam had stopped in his room earlier and told Jude he’d be out by the pool if he was needed, so Jude headed there first. Might as well ask his friend a question while it was on his mind.
“Hey, man!” Liam called out. “Damn, you look a zillion times better than yesterday.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” he said, poking fun at his lack of sight. “But I’m up and around, at least.”
“Pull up a chair.”
Jude found one without too much problem. Liam had stopped jumping up to help him weeks ago, letting him learn to cope. He sat and got right to the point.
“Do you recall when you brought me home after the accident?”
“Jesus, like I could forget. Why do you want to talk about that?”
“I don’t. I just want to know if you remember what you did with the clothes I had on that day.”
His friend paused, then asked slowly, “Why would you want to know?”
“I’ve lost my grandfather’s lighter. You know, the antique I used to carry around in my pants pocket?”
“Oh. Well, I suppose it’s probably in your closet. When you had the accident, you were coming home from one of your trips and had a duffel bag. I tucked away everything you had on you into the bag and stuck it on the top shelf.”
“All right, I’ll search there. Thanks.”
“You’re not going to start smoking again, are you?”
“Is that why you hid it from me?” He ribbed his friend. “You were afraid I’d resume the habit?”
“I did not hide it! Not on purpose.”
“I know you didn’t. I’m kidding.” He sat back, soaking up the sunshine. “Anyway, the lighter is sentimental. It’s all I have left of Pop.”
“I’ll help you look if you want.”
“I can check the closet. If it’s not there, I’ll take you up on the offer.”
“Sure.”
Something else was bothering him. “Is Lily okay with what happened between the three of us? She’s made herself pretty scarce around me,” he said, worried. He could’ve sworn they had a real connection going. That she felt the same things he did.
“As far as I know, but . . .”
“But?”
“You’re right. She has been sort of quiet. Now that you mention it, she’s been disappearing for stretches of time, like an hour or so,” Liam said thoughtfully. “I saw her talking on her cell phone in the gardens, too. When she came back, she seemed distant. Almost like she was someone else.”
The back of Jude’s neck prickled. “Did she mention who she was talking to or what the conversation was about?”
“No, and I didn’t want to pry. She’s not exactly keen on discussing her life outside of here.”
“That’s not so unusual. Plenty of folks don’t want to air their laundry.” He thought back. “I did get that her father is dead, though.”

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