Of the Knowledge of Good and Evil (2 page)

His heart started beating again in double time. He moved to try the doorknob once more, but before he could, he felt it turning against his palm and realized that he hadn’t been able to open the door because she had been holding the knob in her grip. And now, she was coming in to him. His grin grew broader, and he refocused on her gorgeous features.

She stopped twisting the knob. Her dazed eyes grew sharp, and she jerked her palm from the window where it rested against his.

Jericho’s grin slid from his face.

She bared her teeth at him and with a vicious twist of her shoulders, the door screeched. She stepped back and held the mangled doorknob before her.

Jericho looked down to where his hand rested on his side of the knob and gave it a twist. It didn’t budge. His eyes flew back to the window, and he couldn’t prevent them from raking over her form. She was perfection. Tall. Curvaceous. Seductive. The hand he pressed against the window curled into a fist.

She sneered at him, dropping the knob from the tips of her fingers. He could hear the clunk as it hit the floor.

And then, with one final look of disgust, she turned her back on him and ran away.

“Nope,” Dahlia said as she jogged through the halls. “No, uh-uh, that did not just happen.” She had not just Impulse-paired with that man.

That really, really beautiful man.

She could still feel those eyes all over her.
Those eyes
. So light blue they almost blended into the white, except for that brilliant, dark blue ring around his iris.

“Come on, Dahlia, he was blond,” she scolded herself.

And delicious
, her mind countered. Dahlia shivered and tried another turn-off. “And pasty.”

Lickable. And tall.

She groaned. Things had just gotten complicated. Way more complicated than she was currently prepared to deal with. As if she didn’t have enough to worry about. That letter had taken centuries off her everlasting life, and now she had Impulse-paired? She wouldn’t be able to stay away from him. The draw to be near him —
with
him — would grow in strength until she was running toward him, begging him to take the pain away.

“Not good,” she muttered as she jogged. “Not good, not good.” Panic was sitting at the edges of her mind, waiting for her to let down her guard for a second so it could sweep in. She had to get out of here. Had to get home.

An alarm blared to life. She skidded to a stop and puffed out her breath. “Great.” She heard the oncoming rush of booted feet and couldn’t prevent a near-scream of frustration. She didn’t have time for this.

Two young soldiers careened around the corner, spotted her, and picked up speed. Dahlia quickly scanned the hallway and found nothing useful. She spread her feet to evenly balance her weight and waited to see which one of them would actually engage her, and which would stall out because she was a woman.

As it turned out, they both stopped before her, their chests huffing. They looked at each other, clearly at a loss as to what to do next. The one on the left spoke first. “You need to return to your cell.”

Her nerves at the fraying point, Dahlia resorted to her bitchery — the only thing she could think of to keep her sane right now. She nodded gravely and cocked her head to the side. “Make me.”

The men eyed each other again, and then the one to the right reached forward and very gently grasped her left wrist while reaching for the restraints attached to his belt.

Dahlia rolled her eyes. “Men,” she muttered. She stepped into the soldier’s personal space, and he froze, making what came next even easier.

She thrust the heel of her right hand into the man’s nose. He grunted as his eyes filled with tears, but he couldn’t retaliate before Dahlia wrapped her leg around the back of both of his and elbowed him in the chest. He crashed to the floor, and she gave him a kick to the ribs that had him gasping and rolling to his side in an instinctive move to guard his vitals.

Now, the soldier on the left’s hesitancy evaporated. He rushed her, and Dahlia pivoted to take the attack head-on. Her left forearm caught him in the throat as she jammed her right knee into his stomach. A few times.

When he joined the first soldier on the floor, Dahlia quickly snagged the zip tie from clenched fingers, and secured their right arms together. Neither tried to get up from the floor. They just looked at her with accusing eyes, as though she had betrayed the order of the world by being a violent woman.

Their censure didn’t even blip on her radar. It was something she’d lived with her entire life, and it wasn’t going to start bothering her now, especially when she had to get the hell out of here as soon as possible.

She turned and sprinted down the hallway, but only made it a few meters before she heard more footsteps charging her way. She sighed and waited for the onslaught. She’d just get through them as quickly as she could.

I’m coming,
she mentally whispered across the miles that separated them.
I’m coming for you, baby.

• • •

They were taking too long to get him out of here. Jericho paced the confines of his room for what felt like years before walking briskly to the far side of his room and charging the door. The boom that echoed through the room as the side of Jericho’s body made contact with the door brought back the memory of the booms he’d heard just before
she
had appeared.

He dimly realized she must have broken out of a locked room similar to his. Was she another test subject?

The door flew from its hinges and across the hallway to strike the opposing wall with a clatter. Jericho spared just a brief glance at its twisted corpse before moving down the hall at a run. He passed several people but barely noticed their presence as he searched frantically for his Impulse mate.

Apparently, leaving his room after months of self-imposed imprisonment was a phenomenon worth noting. Those he passed stopped in their tracks and watched him with slack mouths. Jericho didn’t pause in his search to address their silent questions.

He had to find her. Even though his instinct told him she was no longer in the building, he couldn’t stem the instinctive need to search her out and confirm she wasn’t here.

A hand fisted in the back of his shirt and pulled him to a halt. Jericho spun around without thinking and only just prevented himself from decking the now-shocked face of his best friend, Eli.

“Whoa, man,” Eli said in a low voice. “Take a breath. Everything’s okay.”

Jericho realized his chest was billowing in and out, and he forced himself to at least exude calm.

Over Eli’s shoulder, Jericho watched as Abilene waddled toward them as fast as she could, her belly swaying back and forth with her movements, her face flushed. As always happened when Jericho clapped eyes on the small blond woman, Jericho’s chest constricted at the sight of her ripe body; everything he’d lost rushing back to the forefront. But it was different this time: the loss of his mate and his unborn child only a sharp sting instead of a devastating assault. Jericho frowned.

Abilene pushed Eli out of the way. Her eyes crinkled in concern, and she laid a hand on his arm. “What’s wrong, Jericho?” she asked, just as the overwhelming Knowledge that she was
good
swept through his body — a result of the second fruit he was testing.

Jericho found that focusing on her words was difficult. His eyes wandered around the hallway, looking once more for the woman he had to see again.

Abilene crowded his front, her belly bumping him, and snapped her fingers in his face.

He forced his eyes back to her. “What?” He had to assuage her curiosity so he could get on with finding his woman.

He shuddered at the thought.
Another mate
. Never in a million years would he have guessed it was a possibility.

“Jericho!” He’d wandered again. Abilene was checking his pulse at his wrist, and Eli’s look of shock had morphed into one of worry.

“What?” Jericho repeated.

“You’re out of your room,” Abilene said.

Jericho shook his head. He didn’t have the mental energy to interpret the answer she needed to hear from him to let him go.

Abilene looked over her shoulder at Eli, who stepped up to help. “Jericho, buddy … you’ve never left your room before.” He glanced down at Abilene, then flicked his glance over the growing crowd clogging the hallway. He leaned toward Jericho and lowered his voice. “And you’re tearing through the halls like a bull in a china shop. We’re …
concerned
.”

This was wasting his time. “Where is she?”

Abilene and Eli looked at each other again. “Dahlia?” Eli asked after a beat.

Dahlia
. Jericho closed his eyes at the sound of her name. It was as beautiful as the woman herself.

“You’re looking for
Dahlia
?” Abilene asked, her voice cold. “That’s what this is about?” Her dainty features hardened into a war mask. “What did she do to you? You can tell us. We’ll send her away if we have to.”

“No!” Jericho exclaimed before he could stop himself.

Both of them raised their eyebrows. Jericho stepped closer to Eli. “I have to find her.”

His friend was obviously baffled. “Why?” he asked.

“She — ” Jericho spread his hands wide. “She triggered the Impulse,” he finished in a whisper.

Eli’s brows crashed down over his eyes, his mouth formed a grim line. Abilene gasped and covered her mouth with her hand.

“No,” she said. “Not her. Jericho, she’s a terrible person. You have to be mistaken. You’d never mesh.”

Eli simply asked, “Are you sure?”

Jericho thought for a moment. It had been just as it had been with Emily. The Voice whispering
The One
to him, the immediate feeling of connection, the drive to be with her in every way. Jericho shifted uncomfortably. God, he wasn’t sure he was ready to feel that way about any other woman. But he was sure about one thing. Jericho nodded at Eli. “We Impulse-paired. I’m sure.”

Eli clapped Jericho’s shoulder. “Okay. Tell me what you need us to do.”

Jericho blinked. He hadn’t expected cooperation. He looked at the crowd in the hallway and shifted his weight back and forth between his feet several times.

Eli followed his gaze and groaned. “People, we have work to do. Determine how many were injured and if anyone has an indication of where she was headed.”

“Injured?” Jericho asked as the onlookers dissipated.

“Yes, injured,” Abilene said. “Dahlia left a trail of broken men in her wake when she escaped.”

Jericho bit his bottom lip. That just didn’t seem right. Anger flared. “What did they do to her to make her fight?” he demanded.

Abilene rolled her eyes, and Eli squeezed her shoulder. “They didn’t do anything,” he said. “That’s just how Dahlia works.”

Not possible
. Jericho knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he would not be paired with someone he wasn’t compatible with. That’s not how the Impulse worked. He only had to look at how perfect Emily had been for him to see that. Jericho could never love a violent woman; therefore, Dahlia couldn’t be violent. There had to be some variable here that was still unknown. Eli and Abilene’s prejudice against her was tainting their interpretation of the events.

Sergeant Collins, the co-director of Operation: Middle of the Garden, approached Eli. The older man walked right up to Eli and whispered in his ear, but Jericho was still able to hear every word. “Three men were admitted to the hospital. Four others were treated and released,” Collins said. “It’s bad, Eli. They’re already forming a task force to retrieve her.”

“That’s not going to happen,” Jericho interjected, jerking several sets of eyes to him. They were not going to run after her half-cocked and angry. “If you need her back, I’ll retrieve her.” That way he could make sure no one else hurt her or scared her into defending herself so vehemently.

Collins stared at him for several seconds, and then questioned Eli with his eyes.

“They Impulse-paired,” Eli said.

Collins sucked in a breath. “Well, hell’s fire.”

Jericho was starting to get annoyed with the constant dramatic reactions. He may not have been ready for the pairing, but it had happened. Dahlia was his, end of story. He didn’t appreciate hearing her maligned. “Call off your men, Sergeant,” Jericho said. “I don’t want her threatened again. You need her back, I’m volunteering to go get her. There’s nothing to discuss.”

Abilene sputtered. “You don’t want
her
threatened?”

“Darlin’,” Eli said into Abilene’s hair. She huffed but didn’t say any more.

Collins continued to measure Jericho with his eyes. After what felt like an eternity, the man clicked his tongue and said, “I can see you’re determined. You can go get her. God knows you’re trained enough to track anything. But I’m telling you, son,” he wagged his finger, “you’re on a schedule. I want to hear from you every six hours, and if you don’t bring her back in two days, I’m sending out reinforcements. She’s way too dangerous to have trolling the streets with civilians.”

Jericho chose to ignore that last comment as he turned back toward his room. “I’m going to get a pack together. You can debrief me in thirty.” He could feel three pairs of eyes burn his back as he made his exit.

Dahlia gritted her teeth and pulled her “borrowed” hoodie further over her head, curling into herself as the police officers passed her on the sidewalk. She released her breath when they didn’t look at her on their way around the corner.

Making her escape through the crowded streets of Washington, D.C., was less than ideal. She hadn’t realized how close to civilization the lab was located, and it was damned inconvenient. She was moving way too slowly as she protected herself from being spotted.

Dahlia dodged wandering tourists while keeping an eye out for security cameras. They were everywhere. She knew how resourceful Major Taylor had been, and he had been flying under the radar of the government when he was testing Eli. The new Operation had complete government backing. They had access to everything, including the feed of any security camera in the country. And probably outside of it, too. Well, at least she wouldn’t have to worry about those. She was headed to California, not London.