Passionate Vengeance (5 page)

She eyed him distrustfully, but his reasoning seemed to give her pause. She turned her head to stare out of the window, her jaw and shoulders set in a stubborn line.

“How long will you gentlemen need me to answer your questions?” she asked without turning around.

Lucas didn’t know whether she was plotting and didn’t want him to read it in her eyes, or whether she truly couldn’t face him. Either option sat uneasily in his stomach. They both had their own pitfalls.

He shrugged in a slightly defensive gesture, though it was lost on her.

“I couldn’t answer that with honesty,” he explained. “Almost certainly hours, but it could be much longer if things aren’t safe.”

“What do you mean?” She continued to keep her face averted, staring at the passing streets.

“Abby, you’ve been injected with a vaccine we have no knowledge about. We believe all of the other subjects have died from it and—”

“You said that before, back in the clinic,” she interjected, whirling around to face him with a frown on her face. “What vaccine? What other ‘subjects’? What the hell is going on?”

Lucas sighed and held up a hand to stem her rising questions. Briefly, he explained.

“An audit of a traitor within our agency discovered her putting money into work with Dr Harper which they’d labelled ‘Project Immunity’. We found a list of nine names, one of them being yours. Further investigation gave us a sample of your blood, recently taken at Dr Harper’s clinic. We tested it and found it full of many diseases and pathogens. Dr Harper had been injecting you regularly with a vaccine, presumably to withstand these diseases and heighten your immune system. We found three other case files of his other patients, all of whom have died in recent months. Dr Harper has gone to ground, our traitor isn’t talking and a few hours ago we discovered Harper had forcibly committed you and we instigated your rescue. That’s where we’re at and you can understand the kinds of questions that are floating around.”

Abigail shook her head, clearly speechless.

Lucas gave her a moment to gather herself, noticing Tristan periodically glancing at them both in the mirror. A minute ticked by before she finally spoke again.

“I’m mildly anaemic,” she stated dully. “When my regular doctor changed clinics I saw Dr Harper by chance, he was merely the pool doctor who took my consultation when my appointment came up. He ordered a blood test—which is quite common to check the level of my haemoglobin—and a few days later when the results came in he gave me a shot, insisting I come back in three months’ time for another one. The following time he gave me a shot first and then took a blood test a few days later to check my levels were still acceptable and it’s been like that the few times I’ve been there since.”

“It won’t hurt you to get checked over,” Lucas urged her.

She twisted her hands together on her lap.

Needing to comfort her, he placed his hand lightly on top of hers. When she didn’t pull away a warmth surged through him. Possessiveness consumed him. He loved touching her, even chastely like this.

“Come back with us, let the medics check you over and make certain you’re out of danger. Tristan and I can hopefully ask all the questions that will be needed and we can write up the reports as quickly as possible. Won’t you feel better knowing there’s nothing wrong?” Lucas cajoled.

She met his gaze and a tiny smile tilted one corner of her mouth.

“Maybe,” she conceded. “But I’d feel even better in my own clothes and not this scrap.”

“You look stunning,” Lucas promised her. He kept his gaze on hers, the heat in his eyes clearly proving he meant what he’d said.

“Can we at least swing by my place for a change of clothes? You can both come with me if you think I might make a run for it.”

Lucas turned to trade glances with Tristan. His partner appeared thoughtful for a moment, then shrugged and spoke for the first time.

“Five minutes won’t make a bit of difference in the scheme of things,” he acknowledged.

Lucas laced his fingers through Abigail’s and squeezed gently. She smiled back at him, gratitude shining in her green eyes.

“Thanks,” she said softly, her gaze holding his.

Lucas’ heart hammered. Despite the gravity of the situation he couldn’t help but be pleased to have calmed her down and answered some of her questions.

“You’ll need to give Tristan directions.” He tilted his head as he grinned at Abby. “Your address was in Harper’s files, but my partner has a terrible sense of direction.”

“Bullshit,” Tristan replied without missing a beat. “You’re the one who had to do a map-search online to find the damn clinic. And then write out the directions onto a piece of paper.”

“So you saying you don’t want Abigail to give us directions to her place?” Lucas winked at Abigail, knowing full well his partner would need them.

Tristan muttered darkly for a moment before sighing. The banter had brought a chuckle out of Abby and her grin was blinding in its intensity and beauty.

“Fine, give me the bloody directions,” Tristan capitulated.

Abigail shifted to settle herself more comfortably on the seat and looked around them to get her bearings.

“Okay…”

Chapter Three

Abby could barely believe after everything that had occurred she once again sat on a gurney-style bed, surrounded by hospital smells and medical equipment having her blood drawn. Maybe she really was crazy after all.

At least she felt infinitely more comfortable in her favourite pair of worn jeans and a bright green T-shirt with the slogan ‘Smile big, Run fast, Live Life!’ on it. She had hoped the peppy shirt would cheer her mood up, and to a degree it had helped.

The man lounging against one stark white wall also contributed far more to her peace of mind than she cared to admit. Lucas Sloan. She rolled the name around in her head a few more times, liking the way it sounded far too much.

Focusing on Lucas, she found, distracted her from the anxiety that simmered under the surface of her brain. She’d known her life had taken a drastic turn when she’d been bundled unceremoniously into the back of a truck and whisked away against her will. The night of fever and dreams that had followed had disoriented her, then waking up to find herself strapped down in a strange bed, nurses sedating her every time she’d asked too many questions, had all been utterly overwhelming.

Finally having the time, space and mental clarity to think had only given her more questions that needed answering.

“Press down,” she was told by the man as he withdrew the needle and collected his various test tubes.

Abigail put her fingers over the tuft of cotton in the juncture of her elbow and pushed to stop the small prick in her skin from bleeding.

The technician met her eyes and smiled in a reassuring manner, then whisked the samples away, presumably for testing. A part of Abigail wondered what they’d find, but she knew very firmly she would not be returning to a hospital unless it became dire. She was done with hospitals and the medical profession.

If they looked hard enough they could find many problems with the healthiest of people. Abigail resolved there and then to trust her own instincts. Unless she were truly unwell she could take care of herself from here on in.

“I guess you’re sick of talking by now?” Lucas broke the silence.

She looked towards him, a smile blossoming on her face.

“I’m grateful you and Tristan insisted to your boss that it be the two of you who questioned me and got my story,” she replied. “I’m not sure I would have enjoyed going over the same facts three times with complete strangers. And then coming down here and having more tests, more needles…it’s not shaping up to be the best night I’ve ever experienced, no.”

“You’ve been fantastic.” Lucas moved towards her and sat gingerly on the edge of the mattress. The way he treated her so gently, as if she would break, proved to her he didn’t seem certain how robust her mental and emotional health was. She wanted to feel irritated but knew that response would be the height of hypocrisy. She’d been through a lot and it wasn’t unfathomable for him to think she might go off at the deep end. She refused to let his caution upset her, determined to show him through her words and actions that while not at her best, she could handle this.

Abigail shifted so they could look at each other without twisting their necks.

“So what happens now?” she asked. “Is it as simple as I’m allowed to go home? Can you tell me what you guys plan to do next?”

“I don’t think it’s a big secret,” Lucas replied thoughtfully.

He ran a hand through his blond hair and Abigail found it cute how the strands continued to fall partially into his eyes. He flicked them back with an impatient gesture, only to have them slide back again.

“The Agency is willing to put a lot of effort into finding Dr Harper and bringing him to justice,” Lucas continued. “Part of this is because our medical techs are salivating at the thought of going over his research and data, possibly gleaning any new evidence into immune resistance he might have uncovered. More importantly, none of us want someone as immoral as Harper running around using unsuspecting humans as guinea pigs for his personal projects.”

“So your company wants to continue Dr Harper’s work?” Abigail repeated with a sinking sensation in her stomach.

Lucas reached out to touch her shoulder and shook his head vehemently.

“No, no, don’t misunderstand me. They won’t be replicating his work at all. Kimber assured Tristan that scientists often read up on journal articles that get published in their particular field. Work that one person does might offer an idea or nugget of information to assist a different project. Harper’s methods and actions are reprehensible, but some of the structure of his ideas or hypothesis might help give a new direction to currently stalled research. I don’t really understand the tech stuff, but what if something Harper has postulated gives a good scientist an idea on their own project, and a vaccine to help cure cancer, or AIDS comes from it? Should we ignore that idea just because Harper is evil?”

Abigail sighed and looked away for a moment as she thought. She had so much in her brain right then it was difficult to think straight.

“Evil is a strong word,” she finally said. “Misguided, maybe. Driven, absolutely. I don’t condone what Dr Harper has done to me in the least, and I would be outraged if he were allowed to continue, but maybe in his own twisted way he’s trying to do this for the right reasons.”

“You’re defending him?” Lucas replied, clearly stunned.

Abigail shook her head and glanced back at him.

“Absolutely not, but I’ve met the man. He didn’t strike me as a mad doctor, out to kill people without any regard. He certainly seemed single minded, not to mention distracted by his own thoughts, but I’m not sure I would classify him as evil.”

They both fell silent for a moment.

“What happens to the blood samples I just gave? What tests are they going to perform?” Abigail couldn’t help the vague paranoia and worry that filled her. Having been burnt, she now found it hard to trust in the general goodwill of humankind. She hoped after a bit of time that innate faith would be restored to her once again, that it hadn’t been ripped from her forever.

“I can find out,” Lucas promised. He took her hand in his and a flutter of warmth shoot through her stomach. She wanted to trust him, to put her faith completely in his hands. Abigail found she wasn’t quite there yet, but oh how she was tempted! Lucas’ electric blue eyes bored into hers. The desperate desire to believe everything of him, to leave her cares and troubles behind overcame her.

“I just don’t want to be poked and prodded again,” she insisted in a soft tone. “I don’t care if they find my blood full of diseases again. I feel fine. I don’t have that fever anymore. I don’t feel sick or uncomfortable. I don’t care what traditional medical science says, if I’m not showing the symptoms of being sick or feeling wretched then I don’t want to be near a doctor or hospital.”

“That’s completely understandable.” Lucas’ warm, charming smile made her heart hammer and her stomach knot. The man was irresistible. How did he not have dozens of women draping themselves over him or casting their hearts at his feet? Surely she wasn’t the only woman around here with eyes in her head?

“Why don’t I go and talk to Dr Morrison and see if they’re happy to release you? I bet you’re desperate for a shower and to get some rest in the comfort of your own bed.”

Abigail clung to Lucas’ hand as he made to stand.

He paused, turning to her with a quizzical look.

Her actions surprised her. Not thirty seconds ago she would have loved to have been released, allowed go her own way and try to settle back into her regular life. When it came to that point, however, a new understanding settled on her. She didn’t want to sit back and let everyone around her do the work. Abby no longer wanted to rely on other people to make this right. How could she possibly sit at home, or return to her dreary insurance job, or try to lie quietly and sleep when there was still so much left unanswered?

“I want to go with you,” she spoke firmly.

Lucas appeared startled, and she couldn’t blame him. Up until now the man had only seen her at her very weakest and worst. How could he possibly know she usually was not some weeping, spineless little miss?

Abigail swallowed and repeated herself in a strong tone, determined to start down the road of reclaiming her spirit right there and then. “I’m coming with you,” she said more forcefully, determined in her chosen course of action now she’d made it.

“Um, well okay,” he replied. “Morrison should just be in his office. It’s right down the corridor. We can—”

“No, I don’t mean that,” she replied with a small laugh. Despite herself she indulged for a moment in his understandable misinterpretation of her words. She giggled, enjoying the way the humour bubbled through her. It felt like forever since she’d laughed like this. Lucas’ answering grin seemed instinctive—the natural inclination of one person to find solace with another in a joke—not as if he actually understood why she found this funny.