chapter Eight
Niko folded his arms over his bare chest, his eyes narrowed.
If he had been in a rational frame of mind, he might have appreciated Arel’s loyal attempt to protect him. It was, after all, what friends did. But there was nothing rational in his feelings for Angela, and he wasn’t about to allow anyone to threaten her.
No matter how well intentioned.
Easily sensing the tension, Angela cleared her throat then began edging toward the doorway. She didn’t need her genius-level intelligence to realize that it was time for a strategic retreat.
“I think I’ll go take a shower,” she muttered, giving a tiny gasp when he grabbed her by the waist and claimed a possessive kiss before allowing her to scurry away, his gaze never leaving Arel.
With a roll of his eyes, the young Sentinel lifted his hands in defeat.
“You’ve made your point.”
The words were casual, but Niko was well aware that having accepted Niko’s commitment to Angela, Arel would fight to the death to protect her.
It was the way of Sentinels.
“Have you eaten?” he asked, moving to lean against the countertop.
Sentinels burned calories at an accelerated rate, which meant they were always hungry.
“Yeah, I hit a drive-thru before leaving Columbia.” Arel’s expression hardened. “Tell me about your meeting with Dylan.”
Niko grimaced. “She’s not going to be convinced to turn herself over to the Mave.”
Arel shrugged. “Good.”
“She was one of us.”
“No. She never allowed herself to accept being different,” Arel said. “She was a time bomb just waiting to go off no matter how hard Wolfe tried to diffuse her bitterness.”
Niko couldn’t argue. Wolfe had done everything in his power to reach the hostile young woman, but she’d never been capable of accepting that she would never be normal.
“A damned shame.”
“It will be more of a shame if she gets her hands on your scientist,” Arel pointed out.
“That’s not happening.” His expression held no compromise. He would do whatever necessary to protect Angela.
Arel paced toward the windows overlooking the pool. “Do you think Dylan’s still in the area?”
“Yes,” Niko responded without hesitation. “She won’t leave until I get Angela out of here.”
There was a short silence before Arel turned back to study Niko’s grim expression.
“Would it be possible?”
“What?”
“Could Angela alter Dylan’s DNA?”
“Maybe.” Niko hadn’t given it a lot of thought. His fascination with Angela had nothing to do with her rare talent. “According to Calder, her manipulation of cells, or whatever the hell it is she manipulates, is still small and random, but he has hopes that once she fully embraces her talent she’ll be able to offer hope to high-bloods who suffer from mutations that are killing them.”
“Our very own Dr. Frankenstein.”
“Careful,” Niko growled.
“It wasn’t an insult,” Arel hastily assured him. “Just the opposite. Think of the potential benefits of having her work with our scientists. She could save hundreds if not thousands of lives.”
Niko shook his head. “It’s too early to know how far her skills will develop. Or even if she’ll be willing to accept her gifts.” He deliberately held his friend’s gaze. “It will be her decision. I won’t have her bullied into giving more than she’s willing to offer.”
“Not even if she can help your family?”
“She is my family.” Niko straightened, his gaze challenging. “Any argument?”
Arel gave a sudden laugh. “Niko, if I ever find a female who lights up like a neon sign just because I walked into a room I intend to do whatever I have to do to keep her.”
Niko stilled, ridiculously pleased by the soft words. “A neon sign? Did she?”
Arel shook his head in disgust. “Wipe that smug smile off your lips. There had to be one woman in the world crazy enough to fall in love with you.”
“I only need one.”
“Good God. How the mighty are fallen.” Arel hissed as the sharp sound of an alarm pierced the air. “What’s that?”
Niko was already headed into the living room, moving to stand directly in front of the line of monitors.
“Someone just broke the perimeter.”
The men frowned in unison as they studied the thick woods that surrounded the house.
“Nothing,” Arel muttered as Niko manipulated the cameras to do a complete scan of the area. “Not even a stray dog.”
“It has to be Dylan,” Niko ground out.
What the hell was she doing? She had to sense that Arel was in the house. There was no way she could hope to overpower two Sentinels.
Not without help.
“Or a distraction,” Arel stated the obvious. “You stay here and I’ll try to flush her out.”
Niko nodded in agreement. As much as he wanted to be on the hunt, his heart was firmly committed to protecting Angela.
Of course, that didn’t mean he wasn’t worried about his friend.
“Arel,” he called as the younger man opened the door and stepped onto the front porch.
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be careful,” Arel called, disappearing into the darkness.
Niko moved to shut the door and reset the alarm, then headed to the back of the house to check the locks. Stepping into the kitchen his instincts were on full alert.
Dylan.
The scent of her filled the air.
On cue, the slender female still dressed in black stepped out of the pantry and offered him a mocking smile.
“About time,” she drawled. “I thought Arel would never leave.”
“Dylan.” He clenched his hands at his side. His weapons were upstairs, but it didn’t matter. He could kill as easily with his hands. Or even a well-placed kick. “How did you get past the security system?”
Her eyes glowed with an eerie crimson heat as she strolled forward, one hand held behind her back.
A hidden weapon?
That was the most logical guess, although he couldn’t catch the scent of gunpowder or the metallic tang of a blade.
He would no doubt find out soon enough, he conceded with an explosion of frustration.
Goddammit.
Why the hell couldn’t this female simply accept that she was made precisely as nature had intended? She was graceful, strong, intensely intelligent and beautiful in an exotic fashion.
Everything most women wanted to be.
“I was watching the property when dear Arel was kind enough to punch in the codes so I didn’t have to waste time trying to sneak past the cameras,” she confessed.
Fan-f*cking-tastic.
“What about the alarm that just went off?”
She shrugged. “I set it off with a delayed explosion.”
Ah. Of course.
“Clever, but a waste of your time,” he said, his voice steady and his expression carefully devoid of his seething fury.
She strolled forward, a smirk curling her lips. “There’s no need for us to be enemies, Niko. Give me the female and I’ll walk away. No harm, no foul.”
“The female’s name is Angela,” he said from between clenched teeth. “It’s not going to happen.”
“Then I’ll take her.”
He shifted, making sure he was standing between the crazed bitch and the door.
“It won’t do any good. She can’t help you.”
Bitterness flared in the crimson eyes. “Oh, I think you would be surprised what people can accomplish when they’re desperate.”
“So you’ve proven,” he pointedly reminded her, his acute hearing picking up the sound of the shower being shut off overhead. Oh. Christ. Don’t come down here, Angela. “You betrayed and murdered your own family. And for what?”
“For a life beyond the prison walls.”
His brows snapped together. “Valhalla has never been a prison.”
She hissed in anger. “Not to you.”
Niko shook his head. He was wasting his breath. Dylan had convinced herself that her life had been some sort of torture at Valhalla. How else could she excuse the murder of those who’d offered her only kindness?
“And you believe if you can pass as a normal human your life will be filled with endless happiness?” he instead sneered.
Her chin tilted, the slits of her flat nose flaring in anger.
“Endless happiness? No. But fleeting happiness? Maybe,” she ground out, taking another step closer. “Why shouldn’t I have the opportunity to fall in love? To have children.”
He barely listened to her whining. He could smell . . . what? Something he couldn’t identify.
Which was worrying the hell out of him.
“If a man loves you he doesn’t care about your appearance,” he said in absent tones.
“Don’t insult me,” she snarled. “Would you be bedding your scientist if she looked like a monster?”
Niko didn’t even have to consider. “Her looks have nothing to do with my feelings.”
“Liar.”
Niko narrowed his gaze. “Believe what you want, Dylan, but be very clear on one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“I’ll kill you if you lay a hand on Angela.”
A slow smile of anticipation curled Dylan’s lips as he widened his stance and squared his shoulders.
“So at last we get to discover who the better Sentinel is.”
“Being the superior fighter doesn’t make you the better Sentinel,” he reminded her, his attention torn between the threat standing in front of him and the nagging fear that Angela would return to the kitchen before he could disable Dylan. The last thing he needed was her leaping into the fray. And she would leap. He didn’t have one damned doubt about that. “Or didn’t you learn anything in our training?”
“You mean all that shit about loyalty and honor and protecting the weak?” she mocked. “Blah, blah, blah.”
“You’re lucky Wolfe never heard you call his teaching shit.”
“I’m a warrior not a f*cking Girl Scout.”
Yeah. No argument there.
The mere thought of Dylan as a Girl Scout made him shudder in horror.
“With power comes responsibility.” He repeated the words that had been drilled into his head from the minute he’d walked into Valhalla.
Dylan gave a sharp laugh, pulling her hand from behind her back to reveal the small device that was strapped around her forearm.
“And your insistence on clinging to honor will make sure I win.”
“Dammit, Dylan,” Niko breathed, recognizing the weapon that had been developed as an advanced stun gun only to be banned when it was discovered the electrical charge was enough to stop all but the strongest heart. “Where the hell did you get that?”
“I made it.” She lifted her arm toward Niko. “We all have our little talents.”
Niko darted to the side, acutely aware that it was a fifty-fifty shot of whether he could survive. If he died, or was even incapacitated, Angela would be at the mercy of the crazed Dylan.
As fast as he was, however, he wasn’t fast enough.
Even as he moved he felt the barbs pierce the skin on his back, a massive jolt of electricity blasting through his body.
Shit.
With his last coherent thought, he tried to send a mental message to Arel and warn him of the danger. Then, as his heart threatened to explode, he dropped to the floor, his head banging against the ceramic tiles with enough force to knock him unconscious.
Angela stayed in the shower until the water turned cold and her skin was pruny. She wanted to give Niko and Arel plenty of privacy to talk.
Or argue.
Or have a beer and play lawn darts.
You could never be certain with men.
She blow-dried her hair and then slipped on the one pair of clean jeans she’d managed to stuff into her bag along with a stretchy top.
She was searching for her shoes that had become lost during the heat of Niko’s lovemaking when she heard a low grunt of pain.
Had that come from the kitchen?
Had the two men come to blows?
Well, she’d be damned if she would stand aside and allow them to beat each other bloody. Especially if they were fighting about her.
Taking the steps two at a time, Angela jogged into the kitchen, not sure what to expect.
She didn’t have enough experience with men to know if they could punch one another and then make up and play nice. Or if she’d have to get between the two and try to make them stop.
Yeah, like she could actually separate two Sentinels.
Her ridiculous imaginings were destroyed by the sight of Niko lying motionless on the floor with Dylan standing next to him.
“Oh my God.” Skidding to a halt, she sucked in a horrified breath, her heart forgetting to beat. “What have you done?”
Dylan lifted her head, her crimson eyes shimmering in the overhead light.
“He’s alive, at least for now,” she purred, her fingers lightly stroking over a strange device strapped to her forearm. “Come with me without a fight and he’ll stay that way. Otherwise poor Niko will join his beloved Fiona in the grave.”
Angela nearly went to her knees at the tidal wave of relief that flowed through her.
Niko was alive.
That’s all that mattered.
“I’ll come,” she croaked. “Just leave him alone.”
Stepping over the unconscious man, Dylan moved toward Angela with a smirk.
“I knew you’d be reasonable once you understood the situation.”
A blast of anger shook through Angela. This female had murdered over a dozen innocents, not to mention members of her own family, for her own selfish desires. Now she threatened to kill the man Angela loved—yes, loved—to force Angela to perform a miracle.
If she truly could alter cells, she’d turn the bitch into a newt.
“I understand that you’re a psycho,” she muttered.
“Careful, scientist,” Dylan hissed. “My temper isn’t always stable and I might break your neck before I remember that I need you.”
It wasn’t an empty threat. Angela could see the barely leashed desire for violence shimmering in the crimson eyes.
With a shudder, she struggled to form a coherent thought through the fog of anger and sheer terror.
Niko was unconscious, but where was Arel? Had he already left? Or was he lurking close enough he could come to the rescue?
Licking her dry lips, Angela glanced down at her bare feet. “I need to get my shoes before we leave. Oh, and my purse. They’re upstairs—”
“Don’t bother trying to stall,” Dylan interrupted with sharp impatience. “Arel is still searching the woods for me. We’ll be long gone before he realizes he’s been outmaneuvered.” Her lips twisted with smug amusement. “Poor schmuck.” She gave a jerk of her head toward the door. “Let’s go.”
Her heart sank. It seemed she was on her own.
“What about Niko?” Angela glanced toward Niko’s face, which was unnaturally pale. What the hell had this woman done to him? “We can’t just leave him here. He needs a doctor.”
Dylan shrugged. “He should wake in an hour or two.”
“Should?”
Dylan ran a loving finger over the strange contraption on her forearm.
It was obviously a weapon, although Angela had never seen anything like it.
“This is more or less a prototype. I can’t be sure of the lingering effects,” Dylan revealed, her glance deliberately shifting toward Niko. “Now walk or I’ll shoot him again.”
“Bitch,” Angela breathed too low to be heard, grudgingly turning to walk out the back door.
At least Arel was near, she tried to reassure herself. He would make sure that Niko was given the medical attention he needed.
And as for her . . . well, what was destined to happen would happen.
As the resigned thought flared through her mind, Dylan moved to her side, grabbing her upper arm in a ruthless grip. Then, with an obvious lack of concern for the fact that Angela was incapable of seeing in the dark, the Sentinel hauled her away from the manicured lawn to the surrounding trees.
Stumbling forward, Angela was kept upright by the silent female who prowled through the thick underbrush with an eerie grace.
Not that she appreciated the assistance. The rough jerks on her arm sent jagged bursts of pain through her shoulder and her bare feet were being shredded by the fast pace over the small rocks and thorn bushes.
At last they reached a small lake nestled among the trees that no doubt looked picturesque during the daylight, but at night reminded Angela of something out of a Friday the 13th movie.
An image that was only reinforced when they reached a car that was hidden among the shrubs and Dylan shoved her into the backseat.
“Give me your hands,” she commanded.
Angela hesitated, then held out her hands. Why bother fighting the inevitable?
Reaching behind her back, Dylan pulled out a pair of zip cuffs and bound Angela’s wrists together.
“Ow,” Angela protested as the plastic cut into her skin. “Do they have to be so tight?”
Dylan hissed in annoyance, twisting so she could reach into the front seat.
“I didn’t want to have to do this.”
Angela pressed herself back into the cushion as Dylan turned back with a roll of duct tape.
Christ, did the woman always drive around with all the tools necessary for a successful kidnapping?
“No. Please,” Angela pleaded. “I swear I’ll be quiet.”
“Yes.” The Sentinel ripped off a piece of the tape and slapped it across Angela’s mouth. “You will.”
Obviously satisfied that Angela was properly cowed, Dylan slammed shut the door and rounded the car to climb behind the steering wheel. She started the engine and set the car in motion, darting through the trees with a speed that would have made Angela screech in terror if she hadn’t had so many other things on her list of worries.
Somehow in the whole scheme of her current life, being smashed into a tree at this point didn’t seem so bad.
Eventually they hit a narrow dirt road and crashing through the gate that marked the edge of the property, Dylan shoved the gas pedal to the floor and sent them hurtling down the road with bone-jarring speed.
Angela struggled to stay upright, more than once hitting her head against the window as Dylan took a corner or hit a pothole. She lost track of time, but she sensed they were traveling east of Columbia.
Not that it mattered . . .
This time no one was going to be making a perfectly timed appearance to save her from the crazy freak. What difference did it make where she was killed and her body dumped?
Drowning in her dark thoughts, Angela barely noticed when the car came to a halt. It wasn’t until the car door was opened and Dylan was hauling her out of the backseat that she came back to her senses.
And immediately wished that she hadn’t.
Not only was her entire body one big cramp, but there was a stench of garbage and something that she couldn’t quite identify wafting in the air.
Meth?
With casual indifference to the pain she might cause, Dylan ripped the duct tape off Angela’s mouth, her expression hard with warning.
“You can scream if you want,” she said, gesturing toward the filthy trailer park that was filled with a half dozen shabby trailers. “No one around here gives a shit.”
Angela believed her.
The very air reeked of a grinding poverty that would steal the soul of anyone unfortunate enough to be stuck in the barely habitable structures. They were far too busy trying to survive in a world that threatened to crush them to worry about anyone else.
“I don’t know why you brought me here,” she muttered as Dylan forced her up the stairs of the nearest trailer. “I told you, I can’t do what you want.”
“Of course you can.” Dylan efficiently dealt with the complicated lock before swinging the door open and shoving Angela inside. “It’s all about focus.”
“But . . .” Angela’s protest died on her lips as she tripped over the threshold to discover a small living room that had been scrubbed clean and stripped of most of its furniture except for a table that was nearly hidden beneath a stack of scientific equipment. “Are those mine?” she demanded in shock.
Dylan shoved her forward so she could enter the room and shut the door behind them.
“You’ve convinced yourself you need technology to work your magic, so here it is.”
Angela scowled at the persistent implication she was a fellow freak.
“It’s not magic. And this equipment is only for my personal use. I would have to be in a fully functioning lab to try and complete my research.”
“You’ll do it here.” Removing her gloves, Dylan used a claw to slice through the cuffs that were shutting off the blood supply to Angela’s hands and pushed her toward the table. “And you’ll do it now.”
Managing to stay upright, Angela rubbed her sore wrists and pretended to study the equipment.
You couldn’t argue with a crazy person.
Besides, it gave her the opportunity to covertly survey her surroundings.
To the right was an open kitchen with the standard stove, fridge, and microwave framed by cheap cabinets. There was a window over the sink, but it was too small for her to wriggle through.
To her left a doorway led to the back of the trailer, but the lights were out and it was too dark for her to make out more than a narrow hallway.
Directly opposite her was a pair of windows, covered by hideous paisley curtains. They had potential as an escape route, she decided. Always assuming she could somehow distract her dangerous captor long enough to attempt an escape.
Sensing Dylan’s growing impatience, Angela sucked in a deep breath and turned her head to meet the crimson gaze.
“Fine. I’ll need to start with a blood sample.”
The Sentinel strolled forward, offering Angela a sneer as she reached for one of the unused slides. “Not that I don’t trust you, but I’ll do it.” Using her claw, she poked the end of her finger and smeared the drop of blood on the slide. “Here.”
Angela took the slide and grudgingly headed for the table.
It was ironic, really.
There wasn’t a scientist alive who wouldn’t sell their soul for a glimpse at this rare blood. Some would even be willingly kidnapped (okay, that was an oxymoron) for the privilege.
But Angela would have traded the opportunity in a heartbeat if it meant being safely tucked in Niko’s arms.
Turning on the microscope, she settled on the lone stool in the room and adjusted the settings, unnervingly aware of Dylan’s impatient stare.
On the wall a clock ticked and more distantly a dog barked, but what felt like a threatening silence was wrapping around Angela, making it almost impossible to concentrate.
At last she had to do something, anything to slice through the thick air.
“How did you learn about me?” She glanced up to see a puzzled expression on Dylan’s exotic face. “I mean, none of my work has been published yet.”
“Oh.” Dylan shrugged. “Your professor contacted Calder when it became obvious you were more than just another grad student.”
Angela froze, not certain what part of the explanation bothered her the most.
“Which professor?” she finally managed to croak.
“I think his name was Appold.”
The fact that the woman knew the name of the professor who’d taken Angela under his wing and had become a trusted mentor shook Angela more than she cared to admit.
Could it be true?
God almighty.
Was her growing skill at manipulating cells actually a result of some mutation?
The thought was almost too overwhelming to even contemplate.
Not because she was prejudiced against high-bloods. Or even horrified at the thought of becoming one of them.
It was quite simply impossible to spend twenty-six years of her life believing herself to be one thing, and then in the space of one day being forced to accept she was another.
She was a logical, pedantic type of gal.
She needed time to process the data.
Clearing the lump lodged in her throat, she wiped her damp hands on her jeans.
“Who is Calder?” she asked.
“The Master of Gifts,” Dylan readily explained. “His order is in charge of seeking out high-bloods who either don’t know they’re special or those who are trying to blend in among the norms.”
“And he knows my professor?”
“Yes, he’s one of Calder’s order who keeps his eyes open for high-bloods in this area.”
She briefly wondered why Appold hadn’t told her of his suspicions from the beginning. Had he intended to spring the good news on her along with her diploma?
“Here’s your doctorate, Angela, oh, and by the way, you’re a freak. . . .”
She thrust away the futile thought.
She was more interested in the future. Hey, there was a minuscule chance that she might survive the night. She needed to be prepared.
“Do they force all high-bloods to Valhalla?”
Dylan’s humorless laugh echoed through the empty trailer. “Let’s just say that they strongly encourage people to travel to the mother ship.”
“Why?”
“They need to know if you are going to be a danger to yourself or others.”
“Oh.” Angela slowly nodded. “I suppose that makes sense.”
“Fantastic,” her companion mocked. “Now that we’ve shared our little heart-to-heart, will you get to work?”
She heaved a sigh, knowing she’d put off the inevitable for as long as possible.
“Fine, but I’m warning you . . .”
Her words came to a stuttering halt as she glanced into the microscope and actually concentrated on the blood sample.
“Good . . . Lord.”
Dylan moved to stand at her side. “What?”
“I’ve never seen cells like this,” she muttered, distracted in spite of herself. “Fascinating.”
“I don’t want to be fascinating,” Dylan snapped. “I want to be normal.”
Angela lifted her head to watch Dylan’s expression harden with bitter self-hatred.
“You know that none of us are normal?” She tried to squash the woman’s expectations. Every woman wanted to look like Megan Fox, but the reality was that fate was rarely that kind. “There are differences in all of us, some are just greater than others.”
The crimson eyes flared with fury. “I don’t need a lesson in biology, I need a cure.”
“But—”
A claw pressed to her throat, bringing her words to a sharp halt.
“Let me make this simple, scientist,” she snarled in lethally soft tones. “Do it or die.”