Siren's Surrender (30 page)

Gwen sighed. Silence. It pulsed in her ears, throbbed in her temples. She felt sucked dry, emptied out, weak. The rain kicked up into a hard drizzle. She didn’t move.

Whittaker opened his own door. “You okay?”

Already soaked to the skin and feeling a little feverish, she shrugged. “I guess so.”

Hand on her arm, Whittaker hurried her toward the entrance of the duplex they shared. “Better get out of this rain before you catch a chill.” Since Kenneth had warned him off, he’d kept a polite distance. Never saying or doing anything that would hint he had put any thought into their single night together.

Fishing out her key card, she glanced toward him. “Would you like to come in?”

He shook his head. “Thanks for the invite, but no. I’m behind on my reports.”

Disappointment stung, but she masked the feeling. He was respecting her need for distance. No reason to lead him on by playing coy. “I would hate to think about what you’ve said about me in them.”

Blake reached for his own key card. “All I can say is it’s classified.”

She allowed a smile. “All that top-secret agent stuff, I suppose.”

He cocked his head. “Something like that.”

She couldn’t help lingering one more minute. If only she had the nerve to say what she really felt... “You know where I’ll be if you want me.”

Blake nodded and offered a brief, impersonal smile. “I know where you’re at.” Opening the door to his own place, he disappeared inside and shut the door.

Gwen stepped into her own place. The apartment was silent, stark, and empty. She turned on the lights and then the television. She hated the silence. Like a tomb, it creeped her out. For a moment she considered heading over to the neighboring duplex, spending a little time with the family she’d neglected.

No. If she couldn’t see Blake, she’d rather be alone. Misery would be her company tonight.

Feeling the chill all the way to her bones, she decided a long hot shower would be just what she needed to help her relax. In her bedroom, she kicked off her shoes and shimmied out of her clothes, all the while thinking about Blake.

If this is love, it’s miserable,
came her vague thought. The upside-down feeling was tearing her apart inside.

Sighing, Gwen padded barefoot toward the bathroom. Twenty minutes later the chill was gone, replaced by calming warmth. Throwing on a sweat suit, she combed out her hair and arranged the damp curls into a messy chignon.

Needing to relax, she claimed a chilled bottle of wine from the fridge. It wasn’t her favorite, but it would do.

Bottle and glass in hand, she drifted into the living room. She began to arrange a quiet haven, turning off the television and lighting a few candles. The musky scent of sandalwood filled the air as the flames licked their way down the wicks.

Sinking onto the couch, Gwen poured herself a glass of wine. She drank it down in a single gulp, poured a second and drank it, too. She hadn’t had anything to eat since breakfast and the alcohol went straight to her head. She was hungry, but couldn’t eat. Maybe later. She just couldn’t face another sandwich or single-serve microwave meal.

Closing her eyes, she plumped up a throw pillow and stretched out on the couch. Of course, she thought about Blake.

A little smile played around the corners of her mouth. She realized just how much she looked forward to his company.

The ringing of the doorbell jolted her out of her reverie.

Addison didn’t wait for her to answer. Pushing the door open, she stuck her head inside. “Tessa says to stop moping all by yourself and come for pizza.” She paused a moment, then added, “Saying ‘no’ is not an option.”

Releasing a sigh, Gwen reluctantly sat up. She had to admit that it was better than being alone.

“Sure.” She reached for the wine. “I’ll bring the booze.”

 

 

Closing the door to his apartment, Blake leaned back against it. Even though he’d wanted to be with Gwen, the day’s events had drained him completely dry.

Closing his eyes, he wiped a hand across his damp face. Damn, what the agency was doing to the hostile Mers was wrong, dead wrong. Instead of treating them like coherent, thinking beings, the A51 gave them less respect and dignity than a common dog. The cruelty had to be stopped. But how?

I’d have to blow the whistle
.

The very idea made the hackles on the back of Blake’s neck rise. A barrage of impressions and images circled through his already cluttered brain.

Do that and he wouldn’t have a job. Do that and his career would be toast. Do that and he’d be betraying the oath he’d sworn to protect his country against all threats, foreign and domestic.

But did that oath also cover the Mer?

A larger notion loomed. Did that oath cover torture?

Needless to say, his orders were clear. And, of course, he could hardly question the intelligence of his superiors. That would be too dangerous to attempt. A man probing for answers instead of following orders was immediately a suspect, especially when seeking the answers wasn’t his job in the first place.

In the chain of command, he was many more rungs toward the bottom than he was toward the top. Right now, his only choice was to obey his supervisors.

“Mine is not to question why,” he muttered under his breath.

At least that was what he tried to tell himself.

Too bad it wasn’t working.

Breathing deeply, he quickly rubbed his sore temples with the tips of his fingers. The moral implications of dealing with alien life forms was getting muddier, not clearer. With each day that passed, scientists were getting more and more intrusive with their experiments and procedures. All in the name of science, discovery, adding to man’s knowledge of the world around him.

It all made sense, sounded logical.

And it was nothing he felt good about being involved with. The lies and deceptions, small and insidious, were beginning to gnaw on his soul. A piece here, a piece there. Pretty soon he’d be eaten down to the bone. He didn’t like the feeling. Or the guilt.

This has got to end soon. I can’t take much more
. The low rumble of thunder punctuated his thought with an ominous finality that raised chilly bumps on his skin.

Leaving the door behind, he walked into the living room.

He shot a glance at the wall clock. Six thirty. Somehow he’d frittered away a half hour without even realizing it. He should sit down and catch up on his paperwork.

A quick glance at his desk and the laptop waiting there told him that was exactly what he didn’t want to do.

Gritting his teeth, he tried to distract his mind. It might help if he got something to eat. He couldn’t remember the last morsel he’d put into his mouth. The entire day had left him feeling numb and drained. Definitely brain-dead.

He drifted into the small kitchenette. It was barely big enough to turn around in. He checked the fridge. It was almost empty. The idea of food wasn’t very appealing anyway.

He needed a walk, a chance to clear his head and think things through. He had looked at all the angles before he made any irrevocable decisions. Whatever course of action he chose wouldn’t affect just him. It could possibly bring down the veil of secrecy surrounding the entire A51 and its covert explorations into alien life forms.

He flung open the door and stalked outside.

The covered porch offered a sanctuary from the rain. He cut across the lawn and was about to hit the pavement when he noticed the cheery glow emanating through the living room window of the apartment Tessa and Kenneth shared, which was cracked open a bit. There was movement inside, noise. The sounds of a family interacting with each other.

Feeling a bit like a Peeping Tom, he walked over to look inside. The four of them—Kenneth, Tessa, Addison, and Gwen—sat around the dining room table. Pizza boxes from the commissary were scattered around. A hot game of Monopoly was taking place.

He had to admire them. They were doing their best to maintain a sense of normalcy. Every one of them had shown grace under pressure. Even Kenneth, as prickly a pain in the ass as he was, was doing his best to cooperate. They seemed determined to prove that the Mer, far from being extraordinary creatures, were perfectly normal. Boring, even.

Not that there was any way he’d ever think of Gwen as ordinary. She was special. A keeper. No doubt about it.

He often thought about what it might have been like if they’d actually gotten to have the date he’d asked her out on.

If only. . . .

He started to back away from the window.
I should leave them alone, let them have a night’s peace
.

Addison glanced up. Her sharp eyes narrowed. “Hey, we’ve got company.” She pointed toward the window. “Someone let him in.”

Kenneth left his seat, heading toward the door. A moment later he came outside. “What the hell are you standing in the rain for, Whittaker?”

Feeling like an absolute fool, Blake shrugged. “Just standing,” he mumbled, having no good reason at all.

Kenneth frowned. “Looking in the window isn’t a very good way to spy on us.”

Blake shook his head. He hadn’t been spying. He’d been admiring the close-knit family and wishing he had something like it himself. Suddenly his life felt empty. Worthless. It was true he had Trevor. But a kid deserved a mom and a dad, living together under one roof. As much as he hated it, Debra was right. The move to California would be the best thing for Trevor and the family she was trying to build.

Maybe it was time to let his kid go.

That would leave him all alone, but there was nothing he could do about it. He’d just have to suck it up and endure. This was the life he had chosen. He was a G-man, whether he liked it or not.

“I was just taking a little walk to stretch my legs,” he lied. “I was thinking maybe I’d hit the commissary for something to eat.”

To his surprise, Kenneth Randall jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “We’ve got pizza,” he offered. “And beer. And if you can handle having your ass kicked, there are some moguls in the making waiting to take all your cash.”

Blake perked up, shaking off the dull chill of the night. It was the best offer he’d had in a long time. “I could surely use a beer,” he admitted. “Maybe even two.” It would also give him a chance to spend a little time with Gwen. That thought alone cheered him immensely.

Kenneth clapped him on the shoulder. “It’ll be easier to spy on us if you’re on the inside”

Blake nodded. “Yeah. I suppose it will. But don’t remind me I was whipped by a woman, please.” So far Gwen had pulled his ass out of the fire twice.

Kenneth scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “Sorry. Guess you’ve figured out those Mer can be fierce when they’re riled.”

Curiosity nudged. “So what’s it like, being married to one?”

Kenneth cut him a hard look. “Are you asking me as a spy, or as a man?”

Blake tried to laugh but didn’t quite manage. “Dunno. Maybe a little of both.”

“I’ll just say that’s something you’d have to find out for yourself.” He paused, then added, “I know you and Gwen had your moment. I probably shouldn’t say this, but I know it meant something to her, despite the brave face she’s putting up.”

“I wasn’t using her,” Blake hastened to say. “I never would—”

“For her sake I’m glad to hear you say that,” Kenneth said, cutting him off a bit awkwardly. Blake could tell feelings weren’t Kenneth’s strong suit as well. “For what it’s worth, if the circumstances were different I think you two would have been good together.”

Blake would have smiled if his nerves hadn’t been so frazzled. “Thanks.”

The rain started to fall a little harder, pelting them with hard fat drops. Light scratched at the gray belly of the sky.

“We’d better get inside before we’re soaked,” Kenneth urged.

Following Kenneth into the apartment, Blake peeled off his rain-soaked jacket. “I hope you don’t mind me joining you.”

The women all waved and smiled their welcome. “Of course not,” Tessa said, bustling around to find an extra chair. “Sit down and join us.”

Feeling more than a little out of place, Blake took the chair, which Tessa had made sure to place far from Gwen’s. She might welcome him to her table, but she wasn’t giving him easy access to her sister. He couldn’t say he blamed her one little bit. They most likely thought he was a total heel. Hell, he felt like one and probably deserved every dirty look they threw his way.

He sneaked a peek across the table at Gwen as he sat. Sitting in a faded gray sweat suit, her hair was freshly washed and pinned up. Without a lick of makeup, her skin was flawless, as fragile as porcelain.

“You look good,” he said, attempting to keep his tone casual. Inside his heart was racing a mile a minute.

Gwen’s hand self-consciously rose, brushing a few stray curls away from her face. “Thanks. You look drenched.” Her eyes met his and within their depths he saw the memories of the night they’d made love. She hadn’t forgotten.

Neither had he.

Frustration coursed through him. The memories of her were seared into his brain like a brand. Blake shoved them away. He couldn’t have her, damn it. She’d been clear about that. Thinking about her was a stupid, futile exercise.

“Rain tends to do that to you.” Realizing his body had suddenly turned icy, he shivered. “I suppose I could use a cup of coffee more than I could use a beer.”

“I can put on a pot,” Tessa offered.

“That would be great. Thanks.” He looked at the game pieces scattered across the table. “Sorry to interrupt your game.”

Addison shrugged. “It wasn’t a very good one. Ken’s been sulking since he went bankrupt.”

Reclaiming his place and reaching for his beer, Kenneth took a hearty drink. “I wasn’t sulking,” he said, curling his lip. “I was working on my getaway plan. Being stuck in this place is driving me stir-crazy.”