Danger That Is Damion (22 page)

Lara’s chest tightened with a fist of emotion. Damion felt… right. He felt right—like someone she could care about, someone she already cared about. Yet he was someone who could be her enemy, someone who could be manipulating her.

She rejected the idea, the possibility, the reality of the truth—whatever it might be. She didn’t want to think about it now. She wanted him, rejected the flashes of images, the pain in her head. “Just to be clear,” she said, running her hands down his powerful back. “I’m not done yet. You better not be.”

He leaned back to stare down at her, his hazel eyes shimmering with new desire, his strong jaw and high cheekbones sexy. He looked good enough to eat, and he felt good enough to drive her wild all over again. Yes. She wanted this man. She wanted to pretend that was all that mattered, all there was.

“You’re supposed to be sleeping,” he objected, but she could feel him thickening inside her, feel him growing aroused. “Doctor’s orders.”

“Because sleep was supposed to heal me,” she countered. “I told you. You’re a much better drug. The way I see it, the longer we keep at this, the less pain I feel, the more healing I do. I mean—you’re GTECH. Doesn’t that mean your endurance is superhuman?”

He smiled. “You’re GTECH too, which you seem to keep forgetting.”

“I’m not forgetting now,” she said. “I have plenty of endurance.” It was a challenge.

He rolled to his back, still inside her, and she sucked in a breath as a small tingling sensation started at the back of her neck, along her scalp. No. No. No. Damion was supposed to keep the pain, the images at bay. She grabbed his hands, pressed them to her breasts, and then bent down and kissed him. The sensation slipped away into passion, just as she’d willed it to.

***

Hours later, dressed in one of Damion’s T-shirts, with him by her side in jockey boxers, Lara sat on top of the white down comforter of his king-sized bed and finished off a bowl of cereal. “I thought being GTECH meant I never had to diet again. Instead, it means refuel often or crash and burn.”

Damion finished off a bite of cereal. “Exactly why I carry high-calorie supplements with me everywhere I go.” Damion set his bowl aside and held up the box of cereal. “Still a little left if you want it?”

She shook her head. “I’m done.” He took her bowl from her and disposed of it on the black and glass nightstand then leaned against the black wooden headboard, his long powerful legs stretched out before him, his back and shoulders rippling with the action.

Forget the cereal. She wanted to gobble him up. She sighed and dropped to her back, curling her toes in the soft blanket, her hand pressed to her overly full stomach. “It’s been forever since I’ve had a bowl of Frosted Flakes. I forgot how much I love them.”

“How long?” Damion asked. She stilled with the seemingly innocent question that wasn’t innocent at all. It was the first bit of personal information he’d asked of her outside of what was directly related to her pleasure. He wanted to know who she was, and she didn’t blame him. So did she. She wanted to answer him, but as she reached for the knowledge, she came up blank, an empty hollow in her mind, making a bigger one in her chest.

“How long have you been in the army?” she asked, changing the subject in what she’d intended as a smooth transition, which was more a train wreck of obvious avoidance.

“I went in when I was twenty,” he said, showing no indication he’d noticed the dodgeball she’d thrown him. “I left when the army didn’t differentiate between those GTECHs who tried to protect Area 51 and those who took it over. They wanted us all locked up until they could find a way to control us—thus the Renegades became the Renegades. We work with the army, but with due precautions. We as GTECHs—all of us, you included—are like commodities. We’re weapons. Can you imagine what could happen if someone completely controlled an army of GTECHs, and that person wanted to use us for the wrong reasons?”

A chill ran down her spine. “Yes, and I don’t want to.” Even now, she thought of the order to kill the Russian, which had been wrong. What if they’d had some method of forcing her to do anything they wanted? Did they? Was that why she was having the headaches? Because she’d disobeyed an order?

“How about you?” Damion asked. “Were you—are you—in the army?”

Powell was a general, but she’d never thought of Serenity as being part of the army. Maybe she should have? Maybe she should have thought of a lot of things. “
I
don’t know.
There is just the day my parents died and after. I don’t remember my last bowl of Frosted Flakes, or Ben and Jerry’s Chocolate Fudge Brownie ice cream, but I know I love it. I don’t remember ever having sex before today, or ever being in love. But I know I’ve loved and lost.” Her throat tightened, and her voice with it. “And I know I feel like I can trust you, Damion, or none of this would have happened tonight. So if you’re manipulating me, if you’re—”

“I’m not,” he said, scooting down on the bed and pulling her to him, so they were side by side, facing one another. “I’m not manipulating you. If a Renegade killed your family, if a Renegade purposely took an innocent life, then they aren’t welcome here. They’re traitors. I swear it, Lara.”

She buried her face in his chest, inhaling his scent, warm and masculine, and somehow familiar beyond their short attachment. Trusting Damion meant betraying Powell—it meant believing Powell was a liar, a manipulator—the man who she’d believed had saved her life, given her a reason to keep living.

Damion shifted to his back and snuggled her close to him, her head on his shoulder and her hand on his chest. “Rest and get well, and we’ll figure it all out when you wake up.”

Beneath her palm, his skin was warm, his heartbeat strong. Two days ago her life had been about justice and vengeance, two simple driving forces that had given her a reason to wake up. Now—now it was about truth. She told herself to search her mind, to find the answers, but her mind wrapped around the rhythmic thrum of his heartbeat, and she drifted off to sleep.

***

An uninjured GTECH didn’t need more than a few hours of sleep every few days, and as much as Damion enjoyed sleeping with Lara, he was also concerned about her safety, and the many unknowns between them. He was awake in two hours, holding Lara, and staring at the ceiling, listening to her even breathing while his mind raced. By the time another hour had passed, it was already seven o’clock, and he was showered, dressed in black fatigue pants, boots, and a black T-shirt, sitting at his kitchen table, with his laptop in high gear, resisting the urge to call Kelly before eight. She was human and needed sleep. So he occupied himself doing a search for “Skywalker” and coming up dry. It was clear. He was going to have to get Sterling to put his magic fingers to work, as well as turn up the heat and hack the government’s computers.

The instant the clock hit eight, he dialed Kelly. By eight-fifteen, Kelly was at his door with coffee in hand, her light brown hair neatly styled, wearing a navy blue pantsuit that would soon be covered with a lab coat. “How is she?”

“Fine for now.” He stepped back into the hall to let her enter. “She’s asleep.” He followed Kelly to the kitchen table, where she sat down. Before joining her, Damion quickly and quietly pulled the bedroom door shut, so they wouldn’t disturb Lara.

Kelly studied him a long moment when he didn’t immediately speak. “Talk to me, Damion. What’s wrong?”

“If she won’t let us do a CT scan, then what?”

“She really doesn’t trust us, does she?”

“I don’t think she trusts herself at this point,” he said. “How can she trust us?”

She nodded. “Well, who can blame her, really? I’d refuse the test too. Sleep is truly the best medicine for a GTECH. We might not have to do anything. The problem may solve itself. I don’t think we have to push her about the CT scan. Not yet.”

He considered that. “So when she wakes up, you think her memories might be restored?”

“I don’t know, Damion,” she said. “In theory, and in observed practice, every GTECH injury should heal with sleep. The question becomes—is this an injury? What if Adam, or even the government, found a way to put a control device in her brain that they thought her body couldn’t destroy? The GTECH body adapts and learns to fight off any danger. So, what if her body is fighting to destroy a device?”

“Could sleep allow that to happen?”

“Maybe,” she said. “If she’s still having issues when she wakes up, you have to convince her to let me do the CT scan. If there is a foreign object, it might need to be removed. I need to stress that I’m speculating—making educated guesses based on my knowledge of the GTECH body and the limited symptoms described. Not only do I not have physical evidence, I am dealing with the first female GTECH, and that’s unknown territory.” She tilted her chin down, surveying him. “What aren’t you asking me that you want to ask?”

“I’m that obvious, am I?”

“You’re fairly obvious.”

“She said that when she touches me, the headaches go away.”

“Huh,” Kelly said, spinning her coffee around and around, as if it helped her think, before her gaze cut to his. “When Adam used his son to attack Becca’s mind, Sterling was able to help protect her, even before they’d completed their Lifebond. When Michael and Cassandra refused to complete their bond, her body tried to do it for her.”

She was saying Lara was his Lifebond. He hadn’t checked for the Lifebond mark after they had sex. He’d been afraid to—in denial, even. What if they were bonded? And they really were enemies? What if she woke up and hated him all over again? What if she was manipulating him to destroy the Renegades?

Suddenly, he realized Kelly was standing up. “I’m going to send Emma with some vitamin C for Lara. Inject her immediately and then in another eight hours, if she is awake. And call me when she does.”

He nodded. “Right. Okay.”

She finished her coffee and set the paper cup on the table. “I need to say this. I wasn’t going to say it, but I have to. I saw the sparks between the two of you. Before you hop in bed with her, Damion, think about the consequences. Being a Lifebond is simply a physical bond that’s the evolution of human love. People who love each other hurt each other all the time. In fact, sometimes when things go south, it’s those who love us who lash out harder than anyone else. She thinks we killed her family. Being linked to a man she believes is tied to that loss—well, that would be hard for any of us, me included, Damion. If you have, or somehow end up, sleeping with her, you need to remember that once you complete the blood exchange, you’re bound to each other in life and death. Before that, you can be separated from her. You won’t like it. You won’t want anyone else, but you won’t die if she dies. Find out the truth before you let the bond get the best of you.
Please.
”

Damion had gone icy from head to toe, frozen with the words she’d spoken, with the reality behind them, the “consequences” as she’d called them. That he hadn’t thought of this before was a testament to how deeply involved he was with Lara, and how quickly it had happened. “I hear what you’re saying.”

She stared at him several seconds and then nodded. “I have to tell Caleb about my suspicions.”

“Of course,” he said. “It’s your duty. I’d expect nothing less of you.” He pushed to his feet, the gentleman in him kicking into gear automatically. He walked her to the door, his features carefully schooled when he was screaming inside.

“Call me when she wakes up,” Kelly instructed.

“I will.” And as she started down the hall, he shut the door and let his forehead fall to the wooden surface. He’d slept with Lara. If they were bonded, she’d now be wearing the Lifebond mark, his mark, on her neck. Lifebonds couldn’t camouflage their eye color from one another, but then Lara wasn’t able to keep her eye color camouflaged right now at all. She probably wouldn’t comment if she saw his eyes as GTECH black instead of their human color. She’d likely assume he wasn’t bothering to camouflage them from her. She wouldn’t know enough about Lifebonding to think twice about eye color. No. He would only know whether they’d bonded if he checked her neck. It was as easy as walking into the bedroom and finding out.

He shoved off the door and walked to the end of the hall, stopping at the bedroom door. He pushed it open to find her curled in the center of his bed, looking innocent and delicate—a contrast to the fiery lover and fierce challenger that she was in her waking hours. The idea of her being his Lifebond shook him to the core—the idea that he had not only slept with the enemy, but bonded with her, almost impossible to conceive. Worse though, was the idea of her
not
being his Lifebond—that the absence of his mark on her neck meant they were not connected—that shook him equally so.

Fingers curling into his palms, Damion fought the whirlwind of emotions that had no place in a soldier’s life. He turned, walked to the kitchen table, and sat down, keying his computer out of the dormant mode. If he knew she was his Lifebond, it might—no—it would dictate his actions, cloud his judgment. He had to find the truth about Lara first.

***

Sabrina collapsed on top of Logan, panting and sated, from what had been a damn good ride. She scraped his neck with her teeth. “I suppose as a human you will need time to restart your engine.” She sat up and sighed. “You look good tied to my bed though, so you hang out here until I’m ready for you again.”