Authors: L. J Charles
The phone on his desk buzzed, and he jabbed at the intercom button. “Front gate here, Officer Grady. There’s a gentleman requesting to see you. His identification says he’s Eamon Grady. Shall I send him on his way, or do you want me to hold him here?”
Eamon? A sliver of unease skittered over Jayme’s skin. What the hell? Had something happened to their parents? “I’ll be right down.”
Jayme hadn’t spoken to his brother for seven, no, eight years. What the fuck did Eamon want? He wouldn’t show up here unless he was in some kind of trouble. Jayme slipped into his jacket, shot the cuffs on his white shirt, and centered his tie. Habit. He’d obviously been working at Langley far too long, but he wouldn’t leave, couldn’t, until he found Kaimi.
He took the stairs to the first floor, using the walk time to defuse his temper. It would take every one of the four flights to keep him from punching Eamon in the face. Crisp November air slapped at him when he exited the building, cooling the fever running through his veins. His pace picked up to a jog. Best to get the family reunion over with.
Dusk had settled over Langley, Virginia, and the lights inside the guardhouse limned Eamon’s face. Pinched. Pale. Sweat beaded on his forehead. Jayme had seen the same look eight years before when he’d confessed to forging Jayme’s name on a withdrawal slip he’d used to steal a hundred thousand pounds from their parents’ bank account.
When their father was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease, their mother asked that the brothers share joint guardianship of both parents and signed the appropriate Power of Attorney to make it happen. She hadn’t mentioned that she’d also been suffering with early signs of dementia for some time, and it had been a shock to Jayme when, several months later, he learned of their rapid decline. It wasn’t a shock to Eamon. He’d considered them excellent prey.
Jayme opened the door to the guardhouse, and stepped into the brightly lit interior. “Eamon?”
It took Eamon too long to stand, and he’d braced himself against the chair, not letting go until he’d balanced on his feet. “Jayme, I…” He gaze darted from one guard to another. “Is there somewhere we can talk?”
Stark panic shot through Jayme. Had the dreaded threat of dementia started to affect his brother? No, impossible. Eamon’s issues were clearly physical, not that one precluded the other.
Jayme had seen to getting the necessary blood tests, knew he carried the gene for dementia, and it rode the back of his mind every damn day. Eamon was only three years older. Sweet Jesus, was it going to happen to them this soon? “Yeah, sure.” Jayme turned to the nearest guard. “Can we use your office for a few minutes?”
One of the guards waved his hand toward an open door. “Or if you want to sign him in, we can make up a visitor badge.”
The idea of Eamon near secure information was enough to scare the hell out of Jayme. Definitely not an option. Would
never
be an option. “The office is fine. We won’t be long.”
Eamon struggled to move, carefully placing one foot at a time on the tile floor. “Sorry, I’m slow these days.” He dropped into the nearest chair.
Jayme hip-shot the door closed, then turned to Eamon. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Pulling out a handkerchief, Eamon wiped the sweat from his face. “Seems I have multiple sclerosis, and it’s been aggravated the last few months. I need help.”
Jayme temper flared. “You already ripped off all that money from Mom and Dad—”
“Not money. I want a cure for this bloody disease.” His words were raw, stilted.
Jayme sifted through what he knew about MS. “There isn’t one. Autoimmune suppressors help, and I’ve heard yoga—”
“Asshole. I’m a bloody scientist, and I’ve been living with this damn disease for over two years. I want a cure. A miracle drug, and the grapevine is rife with the news that your girlfriend has it.”
The hair on Jayme’s neck lifted. “Kaimi? What do you know about her? Where is she?”
A full-throated chuckle erupted from Eamon. “Well, damned if the C-I-fucking-A hasn’t kept their golden boy in the dark.”
Jayme fisted the collar of Eamon’s shirt, and yanked him out of the chair. “Where is Kaimi?”
Eamon went limp, and Jayme dropped him. “If I knew, boy-o, I’d be there getting treated. But apparently you know less than I do,” Eamon staggered to his feet, and opened the door. “I’ll be watching you, and when I find your girl, I’ll pass along a nice warm hello.” He didn’t bother to hide his grin. “You don’t know shit, which leaves the playing field wide open. Maliu will be hungry for a man after six months of celibacy. We’ll be a match made in heaven.”
Jayme watched his brother shuffle out of the guardhouse, considered chasing him down, but held his rage in check. The very grapevine Eamon mentioned would explode with news of an altercation between the Grady brothers. Besides, he could read Eamon well, and there was no doubt his derelict brother knew exactly where Kaimi was.
It was time for Jayme to hit the underground…running.
CHAPTER SEVEN
THE HEAT AND HUMIDITY EXACERBATED
Eamon’s symptoms. He’d fallen twice since he’d begun his hike into the rainforest, but it didn’t matter. Finding Kaimi Maliu did. Fion had kept him up to speed with her new identity, progress with her research trials, and her secrets.
But, just like Jayme, the Maliu bitch was so uptight she’s probably never had an orgasm. It’d be his pleasure to fix that before he broke her into small pieces, but he’d have to wait for that kind of fun until after he’d stockpiled enough of her magic formula to keep him healthy for the next century.
Why the hell wouldn’t she share it? It wasn’t anything to her, wouldn’t cost her a damn thing, and he was more than willing to be a human guinea pig. Maybe she was smarter than Fion thought, and she’d jump at his offer to be a test subject for her precious formula. A strangled chuckle escaped. He’d have to make sure she gave him the non-lethal stuff, and didn’t kill him by accident. Or at Jayme’s request.
He stepped into the clearing that surrounded the lab campsite, and spotted Fion in the kitchen. His vision blurred, then cleared. Damn MS.
Not much had changed since he’d been away. He raised his arm and waved at Fion. Her jaw gaped, and then she crashed out of the kitchen door and ran smack into him. His weak leg gave way, tumbling both of them to the ground. Heat flashed up his neck and into his face. “Get the hell off me, Connor.”
Fion stumbled to her feet and backed away. “Sorry, I didn’t realize—”
Eamon bit down on the blast of temper building in his chest. He’d always been quick to anger, but since this last exacerbation of the MS, his brain wasn’t working right. Or maybe it was because he’d been impotent for nine damn months. Thirty years old and he couldn’t get it up.
“Yeah, right. You didn’t realize. Why the fuck do you think I went back to Ireland?”
She didn’t raise her head to look at him while they walked to the building that served as their living quarters. Good. He’d smacked her into submission, just the way he preferred his women these days. He rearranged his pants. Sometimes if he was angry enough… Nothing. Bloody hell. He would have considered tumbling Fion if there’d been any chance... “What’s to eat? It was a long trip upriver.”
“Xola made stew for supper before she left for her morning scavenger hunt. It’s only ten, but there’s no reason you can’t have some for breakfast. And there’s fresh passion fruit and some acai berries I picked this morning.”
It would do. “Fill me in on the bitch’s progress while I eat. She perfected the magic cure yet?”
Fion shook her head. “No. She’s been focused on an antidote for the poison. But she keeps a lot of her work hidden.” She held up her hand. “Don’t bother to ask. I’ve searched through her lab papers, trailed her every move, and still haven’t figured out where she’s hiding her test vials. Nor have I found any written documentation of what she’s up to. Must keep it all in her head.”
He dropped into a chair at the kitchen table. Yeah, his thinking had been scrambled, especially the past month, but surely no one could keep reams of scientific data in their memory. “She some kind of genius?” He spat the words.
Fion flinched, then ladled out a bowl of stew and set it in front of Eamon. “Could be. There’s definitely something different about her. Doesn’t talk much, even when I poke and probe. Heck, I’ve stooped to being friendly and still can’t get anything out of those pinched lips.”
He blew on a spoonful of stew. “You’re her boss. Demand a written account of the results.”
“Yeah, right.” Fion grabbed a handful of acai berries from the dish on the table. “She has no concept of rank order, and with just the two of us out here, there’s no way for me to enforce it short of shooting her.”
Eamon nodded. “And?”
“You’re a bloody idiot if you think I’m going to kill the only living person who can create a lethal toxin, the antidote, and some sort of miracle cure. Those formulas are going to sell for enough money to make us multi-billionaires.”
“Who said anything about killing?” Eamon sucked down a bite of stew. “There are lots of ways to make people talk.”
Fion snorted. “Uh-huh. Have you forgotten she has the US government watching over her shoulder? Surely her handler knows every damn thing about us.”
Eamon grinned, a Machiavellian glint in his eyes. “She’s got the hots for my brother.”
“Your…brother?” Fion straightened in her chair. “You want to use him for bait? Threaten him with bodily harm if she doesn’t turn everything over to us?” She erupted in a full belly laugh. “Bloody genius.”
Eamon finished off the stew, crumpled his napkin, and wiped his mouth. “He’s been looking for Maliu for six months. Shouldn’t be any problem getting him here. I’ll send a message.”
KAIMI SHOOK SO HARD SHE
could barely hang on to the armful of seedlings nestled in her arms. Thank God she’d stopped outside the kitchen to secure the plants in the crook of her elbow before she touched the doorknob. And a double thanks to God that the window was open and Fion’s voice had an underlying screech that carried for a bit of a distance. Jayme and Eamon were brothers! That rocked her world, but worse, these morons wanted to
sell
the formulas for the toxin, the antidote, and, holy shit, the curative formula no one was supposed to know about. They were traitors to their own governments as well as to the US. Rage spiraled in her gut. Not on her watch, they wouldn’t.
Eamon had barely disconnected from his personal satcom link when the kitchen door flew open and Kaimi burst in with an armload of seedlings.
“Need to get these in water.” She fitted the stopper, placed them in the sink, and turned on the faucet before she turned to face Fion and Eamon. Her forehead wrinkled for a second. “You must be Eamon Grady, the Irish member of our group.” She offered her hand, then jerked it back. “Sorry. I cut myself harvesting the plants. I’m Xola Muerte. Is Grady a common name in both Ireland and Scotland? Any chance you know Jayme Grady, attorney? Works for the CIA? He’s a Scot, though, not Irish.”
Shut up, Kaimi. You’re babbling and they’re going to know something’s wrong.
TALKATIVE LITTLE THING. EAMON BARELY KEPT
from slapping her mouth shut. Instead, he grabbed her hand, forced her to shake his. He wanted the contact, needed to feel the magic of his brother’s girlfriend. Her palm was damp and slightly gritty. He freed himself from her grip, and used the napkin to wipe her blood from his hand. “Grady is a commonplace surname in much of the UK. What’s that?” He nodded at the sink.
“A new strain of one of the plants I’m working with.” She hesitated. “First I’ve seen with the purple-edged leaves, so I’m hoping it has the properties I’ve been missing…”
Eamon stood, balanced himself, then strolled to the sink and plucked out a seedling. “Yeah? For the toxin or antidote?”
Kaimi snatched the seedling from his hand and tucked it back into the water. “The roots have to stay moist.” There was a snap of anger in her words.
Fury erupted, turning the edges of Eamon’s vision bright red. The uppity bitch hadn’t answered his question. “Toxin or antidote?” he barked.
Fion would have scuttled away at his tone, but this smart-ass bitch stepped right into his personal space. A challenge. Anticipation hiked his heart rate up a notch. She glared. “You might want to try speaking to me in a civilized tone of voice.”
Who the hell did she think she was? His hand fisted with the need to hit her, but the first stirrings of a hard-on grabbed his attention. His brother’s girlfriend. Exactly the coup he’d been planning. Now all he had to do was make nice. “Sorry. It was a long boat ride, and I’m not myself.”
With the possibility of sex on his brain, the apology had slipped out without a hitch. He grinned.
Kaimi backed away, turning toward the door. “It’s a long trip upriver. Get some rest and we can talk about the work this evening. Right now I need to prep a nutrient bath for these specimens.”
Once she was out of sight, Eamon braced his hands on the kitchen table and leaned toward Fion. “You search her room yet?”
“No.” She shook her head. “It’s the only place I haven’t checked. She keeps it locked and would know if anyone broke in. It also gives me the creeps to walk by her door, because she’s done something in there.”