Feeling a boost of strength, she dragged herself up and staggered forward, shooting a look over her shoulder at the prone men. They were stunned, but beginning to get back up.
She hadn’t killed them? No, all six were standing now. They weren’t dead. And they had a power similar to hers. What the heck was going on here? Though, where her stronger power surges were clear and barely
perceptible, theirs were tinged with a filmy coating, like pure water versus soapy water.
Stumbling away from them, Harper’s head began to swim. All she was finding were more and more questions instead of answers.
But right now, she was losing it. Not much longer and she’d pass out again. Fear encompassed her, blurring her sight. She didn’t know whether she could handle captivity again. She didn’t want to find out.
Shaking her head, she began to run, but stopped as a black streak filled her vision, accompanied by the screech of tires.
“Get in!” a deep voice commanded from the open passenger-side window.
She paused.
“Harper. Get in. Now!” Rome? He was alive? “Trust me.”
Hesitation. He was alive. Thank the stars. But he’d betrayed her and now he was here to help? Again? She glanced over her shoulder. Her tunneling vision showed fuzzy, bulky figures racing toward her. She swung back around to face Rome, both hands braced against the vehicle.
“Harper, please.” It was indeed Rome. That much she could tell.
At this point, she wasn’t above accepting his help without trusting him. So she hauled herself in the vehicle and clumsily pulled the door shut as the car sped away, tires squealing. Gunshots rang out, but sounded hollow and far away to her ears.
She tried to focus on the rugged profile of the man she’d trusted. The man who had let her down. The man who now reached over and grasped her clammy hand in his strong one. And she’d almost killed him.
“Don’t worry, Harper,” he was saying, but he sounded far off. “It’ll be all right.”
Would it? Would anything ever be all right? She sincerely doubted it. But it was nice anyway, given those were the last words she heard before embracing the darkness of an unconscious oblivion.
Jeff reread Dr. Andy’s report again. He simply could not reconcile the words and charts that covered the pages with the woman they depicted.
Harper Kane. She was one tough bitch.
When he’d first heard about the incident at the train yards, a rare excitement had overtaken him. Though he’d lost some good men, the sheer power unleashed upon them was immeasurable.
And that power was exactly what he’d been striving for.
Somehow, Ms. Kane had gotten her hands on the pure serum and used it. The pure serum that had evaded him. Her damned scientist brother must have given it to her before he destroyed his own lab and all remnants of his research. The details were still a tad sketchy, but the fact was the pure formula pumped through her much-too-healthy body.
The pure formula that was proving very difficult to replicate. Jeff had yet to be successful in reproducing the serum Dr. Kane had used on his precious plants.
Something was missing. Something that Harper Kane possessed. Something she’d refused to give him.
She was damn tough. Everything he’d had Dr. Andy expose her to had failed to produce acceptable results.
Every extraction of blood had given him nothing. Plus she refused to utter a single word and barely screamed when subjected to his most inventive interrogation drugs. Drugs that had made experienced and trained men twice her impressive size break like dried twigs. It was as though Harper Kane were impenetrable.
And according to Dr. Andy’s reports, she was.
A loud smack vibrated through the quiet of his office as he slammed the papers on the top of his desk. Resting a fist against his mouth, Jeff thought hard about the decision he’d made just before Rome’s impromptu and unusual visit. To move Harper was risky. He wasn’t sure what to expect from her. But he had to take the chance. He wanted more intensive and invasive experiments. The larger lab facility was better equipped for the comprehensive trials and dissections he intended for her.
Jeff needed to find the serum inside her and wring out the elusive formula. His project depended on it. And this project meant everything. Not just to him, but to the future. Dr. Robert Kane hadn’t understood that. So the brilliant doctor had been taken care of.
But now the doctor’s sister was in the way. And, in time, she’d be taken care of, too.
A harsh knock on his door brought him out of his thoughts.
“Yes,” Jeff called out, picking up the reports to read over once more.
“Sir.” One of his brawny subjects stepped through the doorway. Jeff narrowed his eyes at the man’s dingy appearance. He looked as though he’d been in a tussle. “She got away.”
Jeff shot to his feet and threw his papers against the wall. He stalked toward the man and grabbed his shirt.
“Find her,” Jeff growled, less than an inch from the
man’s face, and then shoved him out the door. The brute lumbered down the cold hallway, barking out orders into his shoulder mike.
How in the hell did she escape?
Had her powers returned? Even once outside, they shouldn’t have worked so quickly.
Did she have help? Jeff thought hard. No, everyone in this facility was more than loyal. He’d made sure of that long ago. But then, there had been someone else here, not that long ago.
Rome Lucian.
No. Rome was bound by duty. Jeff knew too well what horror the agent had gone through with his team several years ago. The man was dutiful to a fault.
Yet Rome had just been here. Asking about Ms. Kane. Could the agent have had a hand in her escape? Jeff didn’t want to believe it. Rome could complicate his plans for the serum, especially if he was helping the bitch.
Jeff shook his head and rubbed a hand over his face. He had a hard time thinking of Rome as a rogue agent, but this project was bigger than one agent. And one challenging woman.
He’d have to be wary of Agent Rome Lucian from now on. Just in case.
She heard a gurgling rumble as consciousness returned. The rolling and sputtering forced her eyes open, and she blinked, then took in her surroundings. She was in a car. A very loud car. The jumbling ride reminded her of the old red Volkswagen Bug Bobby had when he was in high school. The curved, dotted ceiling and the rounded rear window confirmed it. She was indeed in a Bug.
Flexing her arms, Harper pushed her weary body up
to take a peek out the elliptical side window. Dusk appeared to be approaching. They were driving through a quiet suburban area. Wait. They?
Disorientation flushed through her. Hadn’t Rome come to her rescue in his Land Rover?
“Stay down,” Rome’s familiar deep voice filtered from the driver’s seat directly in front of her. “We’re almost there.”
“Where’s there?” she asked hesitantly, her voice scratchy from inactivity. Did it really matter? He could be taking her anywhere. Maybe to an even more ghastly place than before. But right now, this minute, she had a reprieve.
“I have a place just outside of town,” Rome answered, rounding a corner. She slid a little on the slippery vinyl of the backseat. “A safe house of mine.”
Safe. That sounded absolutely blissful. And highly unlikely. But what choice did she have? She had gotten in the car with him, after all. She’d have to trust him for now. Darn it.
“You passed out,” he offered quietly. “I switched cars, just in case.” She appreciated his keeping her in the loop.
Another ten minutes and they were just on the outskirts of Portland when Rome turned the car into an unfamiliar private warehouse area. Harper peeked out the back side window as soon as they slowed down to wait for the gate to glide open. Rome weaved the Bug around several of the buildings to one in the back that bordered a wooded area. The metal door of the midsized structure slid aside just enough to allow him to maneuver inside. She watched out the oval back window as the door skated shut with a loud, ringing
clank
.
Rome slipped out the driver’s side and walked over to
a panel on the wall and punched some of the buttons. Lights illuminated the area, and a red light flickered on the little plate.
He came around to the passenger-side door and opened it. He reached down to pull the seat lever and moved the seat forward, gesturing with the sweep of his hand for her to get out.
Harper unfolded her long frame from the cramped backseat of the Bug. Stiff and achy, she stumbled a little as she crawled out. She felt Rome’s sure grip on her arm steadying her.
Murmuring her gratitude, she stretched out a little, hearing several pops and cracks. Grimacing, she glanced at Rome and saw a gentle smile crease his rugged face. She gave him a small smile in return, and then turned away to study her newest confinement. Goodness gracious. How many resources did an agent have?
“C’mon, Harper.” He placed a large warm hand on her shoulder. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” He tugged on her slightly.
She stared pointedly at the hand on her shoulder and he immediately removed it. Harper saw a pained look of remorse cross his face, quickly replaced by a reassuring one. Good. He should feel guilty about locking her away like some psychotic freak. She knew she had big problems and had done some terrible things, but she hadn’t needed him to dupe her into trusting him and then treating her like enemy number one.
“Harper, you’re safe here. Trust me,” Rome implored.
“Trust you?” She couldn’t stop the burst of laughter, but she wished she had when she started to cough a little. “You turned me in.”
He nodded as his hand started to rub soothing circles
on her back. Harper wanted to punch him and sink into his comfort all at once, but held herself in check. Until she knew what he wanted and what he was going to do to her now, she had to be on her guard.
“Look, I know you hate my guts right now.” Rome met her eyes. “I know you think you can’t trust me. Hell, I wouldn’t trust me.” He removed his hand from her back to swipe it across his face, frustrated. She missed his touch. “But, Harper, give me a chance to explain. To convince you I’m on your side.”
She looked away, but turned her gaze back when his fingers brushed her jaw with a touch so light, she might have thought she’d dreamed it.
“Please?” he asked quietly. Goodness, he was intoxicating.
“I guess I owe you for the ride,” Harper whispered, wishing she’d made a different decision back at Bobby’s house and not used her power.
“You don’t owe me anything.” His voice rang with self-disgust. “Please, Harper.”
Well, it couldn’t hurt.
“All right.” She allowed him to take her hand and lead her deeper into the square building. She didn’t have much choice, and realized she didn’t want one. So much had happened recently, she didn’t want to think about much of anything right now.
There were many things worth noticing as she followed Rome. Though crude, the one-floor warehouse had several rooms and cavernous ceilings. Some were finished, but most were just encased by bare two-by-fours, making it feel as if she were walking through a wooden jungle.
One half-completed room they passed sported a flatscreen television with a PlayStation 3 hooked up to it. A
video-game nerd herself, she decided she wanted to poke around in there later.
Spying the modest stack of video games prompted her to realize that she was supposed to be returning home to California to resume her training and getting back to her job soon. Her coach, and maybe even her boss, would call when she didn’t show up. And she had no idea where her cell phone or her backpack were. Probably in the hands of the jerks who tortured her.
But there was no way she could go back to her normal life now. At least not until this was all over. If it ever would be. A cold wash of loss rained over her. She really had nothing.
With great effort, she shook the morose thoughts from her mind and resumed her attention to her surroundings.
Moving down the rough hallway, the next space had a humongous bed that looked cheerfully lumpy with goose-down quilts. A little farther in, the area opened wide like a great room with a kitchen and another big flat-screen television in front of three huge rust-colored beanbag chairs. A tacky yellow and red striped couch was at an angle to the television behind a low, chunky wooden table. The place looked to be a work in progress. It wasn’t musty or dingy, just unused and unfinished.
“There’s a bathroom through there.” Rome pointed to a smaller area just to the side of the kitchen. The only room with a door. “I’ll get some towels.” She watched him move toward a far closet as she headed to the idyllic room with a shower.
And what a shower it was. It was at least as big as her whole bathroom in her little studio apartment in San Francisco. A double-headed shower in a waist-high tiled
rectangle. She sighed out loud in enchanted anticipation.
She pushed the door shut, leaving it open just a crack. She peeled off her grungy T-shirt and bra and tossed them aside, then reached in to twist the spigots on each side to steamy-hot.
A knock sounded before the door opened wide. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Rome standing there with his arms full of fluffy foam green towels, his mouth agape. His blue eyes darkened to the color of midnight as they swept down her naked torso.
“Harper.” Her name was spoken with a raspy breath of regret and desire. “I am so, so sorry.” He set down the towels and a new box of bar soap on the freestanding wooden towel rack and moved to stand within a breath of her. A whisper of a touch caressed her skin as his fingertips glided gently down her back. Peering over her shoulder, she followed the trail of his hand.
She knew she shouldn’t be shocked to see the angry red marks there; after all, she’d experienced every single one. But to see them in the bright light of the gleaming white bathroom was daunting. Also a little scary that they weren’t as bad as she would have thought.
She watched him while he continued to run his fingers softly over her back. His face was a kaleidoscope of emotion. Sorrow. Shame. Compassion. Fury. And, finally, determination. Then his face cleared and his gaze snapped to hers.
“Take as long as you need,” he said quietly, turning away. He picked up the box of soap, opened it, and set the fresh bar on top of the pile of towels. “I’ll fix us something to eat.” He shut the door gently as he left.
Hot steam clouded the room while Harper removed the rest of her grubby clothes. She briefly wondered whether Rome knew just how expressive his face could
be. Probably not. He was a supersecret government agent or something. They weren’t supposed to have facial expressions, right?
Stepping around the shower’s tiled wall, she was enveloped by the cascading hot spray from both showerheads. She was a tad surprised at his affinity for double-headed showers. It was a luxury she definitely wasn’t used to. But she sure wasn’t complaining.
It was absolute ecstasy.
The lavish fall of water seeped warmth into every inch of her skin, soothing and healing the plentiful aches she knew were there and some she hadn’t known existed. The pain of the last few days slowly ebbed away under the restorative tide, spiraling down the drain.
She brought the bar of soap to her nose. Spicy and clean. Just like Rome. She was surprised when a low growl came from her throat at the thought of his scent.
Shaking it aside, Harper lathered a generous froth over her entire body. The thorough cleansing stung in a few places, but it was a small price to pay for the fresh feeling it created. Invigorating, really. She ran the bar through her hair several times, watching the soapy bubble rinse down the drain, relishing the feeling of grime sliding out of the blonde mop.
After she’d scrubbed herself off, she simply let the water flow over her, enjoying the clean and tranquil sensation, trying to stamp it into her memory just in case it was a while before she’d feel it again.
Harper reluctantly turned the water off on one side, then the other. The thick steam embraced her, caressing her dripping skin as she picked up the downy towel Rome had left for her. Drying herself thoroughly, she wrapped the thick fabric around her body and opened the door.
She spied Rome standing at the stove. Moving into
the kitchen, the inviting aroma of eggs invaded her senses. A small smile broke out as she moved closer, spotting a heaping pile of shredded cheddar cheese and an open package of Canadian bacon on the counter, chopped into little chunks. He was making an omelet. And it smelled like paradise. The spatula looked odd in his large hand, but he capably flipped around the pan’s steaming and crackling contents.