The Protectors Series Bundle (A superhero romance anthology) (5 page)

Cassie slung the backpack over her shoulder, her agility slowly coming back to her. “Are you sure you won’t come with me? You won’t be safe here. Maybe I should mind push you to forget helping me.”

“Forget it. You need your power. Besides, the memories are long-term now. You’d never get them all. As for coming with you, someone has to stay behind and create a diversion. I can always pretend you worked your magic.”

The two of them moved into the clean area just outside of Cassie’s room. She gritted her teeth at the suctioning. For years, that sound signaled torture. Now it meant freedom.  Cassie wrapped her fingers around the strap of the bag. She might not like leaving her friend behind, but this was a gift horse. No need to crank open its jaw and take a peek at its molars. “Your son. I can't guarantee I’ll find him.”

Annabel expelled a slow breath. “I know it's a long shot, but you're my last hope. At least this way, I know I’ve tried everything I can.” Annabel swiped her key card in the main lock. “From here, you're on your own.”

Cassie stepped through the door without a backward glance.
Shoulders straight. Eyes level. Look ahead.
No one would be able to recognize her. But she had to avoid using her power until absolutely necessary. Sweat slicked her palms and she said a silent prayer to any God she could think of.  Luck was on her side. She moved through the brightly lit lobby, complete with eye scanners and armed guards. No one noticed her. And why would they. She looked like one of the anonymous grad students
earning
slave wages and
working
long hours to make a name for themselves. All too absorbed in their own daily movements. 

As she rounded the corner to the employee area, she allowed herself one backward glance. The resulting collision knocked her onto her butt.

A deep voice said,
“Oh, shit. I'm so sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going and—”

Cassie blinked up at the man, the cold of the floor seeping through her jeans. Her body tensed when he opened and outstretched hand. Her instincts said to run, but his eyes told her she was safe. Honey-brown and laced with concern, he stared at her.

She patted the wig to make sure it was still in place before taking his proffered hand. Contact with his skin made her jump like she’d just gotten a shock from an appliance. But instead of the immediate wash of senses and thoughts she expected, he barely registered. All she noticed was how his firm, warm hand dwarfed hers.

He looked down at their joined hands before grinning at her. His face lit up, showing just how handsome he was. Like the hero out of a romantic comedy.

Say something before you screw this all up.
She cleared her throat. “I'm fine. Not your fault. I wasn't watching where I was going.” Her voice sounded strange in her ears. Husky.

“Are you sure you're okay? You look like you took a hard bump.”

Cassie shifted and tried to step around him. The new guards were coming on shift. Just her luck, one of the two, was the guard who caught her the last time. “No, I’m fine. Really.”

Mr. Romantic Comedy wouldn’t be deterred. He danced with her as she shifted, never letting go of her hand. “Okay, then at least let me apologize for being a klutz. My mother always taught me to take care of a lady. If you won’t at least sit down, maybe I can take you to dinner?” He slapped his forehead. “I should have led with my name. Seth Adams. It’s been a pleasure running into you.”

Cassie’s mouth went slack. His voice flowed over her like warm rain in the summertime. Had he just asked her out? This was a territory completely unfamiliar to her. Luckily, she watched enough movies to understand the concept. “I'm sorry I can't.”

He chuckled and shrugged. “Would it help if I phrased it like journalistic research?” His smile was infectious and Cassie wished she was the young
graduate student
he thought she was. Dragging in a breath, she knew she had to mind push this conversation out of his memories. Later, when someone came looking for him, she didn’t want him to remember her.

Problem was, as she pushed, she met a brick wall of resistance. The shield around him was like a rubber ball, his brain so dense and slippery nothing could burst through. Pain zinged behind her eyes and reluctantly, she stopped. 

“I'm sorry, but no.” Cassie pulled her hand free from his and bee-lined for the exit, never looking back at him.
Keep your head in the game Cassie.
She joined the queue for the metal detectors and adjusted the hair of the wig around her face. When it came her turn to be searched, she tried to look calm. She didn’t want to take any chances with the guard, so she immediately mind pushed him to do a cursory glance of her backpack.

“You’re free to go Ma’am,” he said, his voice a little dreamy.

She tucked her chin down and mumbled a thank you.
Ten more steps
.  As she rounded the corner to the outer door, someone called out. “Hey, wait a minute.”

For a millisecond, she paused, weighing and tossing out her options. She had to stop. She was weak and tired, but she could push someone if left with no other choice. She didn’t turn heavy when footfalls thudded behind her.

A meaty touched her arm and a small squeak bubbled up without her consent. Was this the end? Had she risked her friend’s life for nothing?

“You dropped your badge back there.”

Cassie had to take the swipe card. If she didn’t, she’d look suspicious. But if she turned, he might recognize her. Rock, meet hard place. Turning on her heel, she reached out with sweat slick hands and snatched the card without meeting the guard’s eye.

His voice was stern. “Security is extremely important here at Gentech. If you need a refresher on security procedures, ask your manager.”

Nodding her acquiescence she turned and kicked up her pace, veering toward the main parking structure. She had to make sure he wasn’t following before she accessed the private parking lot. Three seconds passed before heavy footsteps pounded behind her.

“
Hey, w
hat’s your name? Are you new here?” The guard’s lumbering body followed her at a quick clip. Cassie paused and turned around knowing she was cooked. She watched as panic dawned in his eyes.

Make your decision. Fight or flight
. She chose fight.

The guard halted. “Girl, you’re looking to make my career. Two captures in six months. Your brother’s going to write me a big check.”

“Not likely.” She stared him down.

Chapter Two

Assholes and opinions. Everyone had one. Right now, Seth Adam’s asshole du jour went by the name of Peter Reeser. The genetics genius was his story of the month and Seth hadn't been able to get him to cooperate. Seth was good with people. They liked talking to him. He had a face that said ‘trust me’ or so his last girlfriend told him. But as he navigated the darkened rain-slick roads of Jacksonville, a sense of failure threaded through his emotions. Peter Reeser had deliberately stonewalled him.

All Seth wanted to do was turn over the story and get started on his much-needed vacation. Since his return from Afghanistan,
he’d taken
every writing job he could get his hands on to avoid thinking too much. A few days in the Florida Keys would do him good. Some sun, crystal clear water and sand. Except, sand reminded him of the desert, so maybe The Keys weren’t the best vacation spot. And maybe he would stop thinking up elaborate plans that would send him back to that shit pile in the desert.

Not like he could help it, though. He was a war correspondent. That’s where he was most comfortable. Civilian life made him jumpy.
Forget it.
After what happened on his last assignment, his editor had pulled him home. No more reporting about civil unrest as bombs sounded in the background. This was his life now. Stories on pompous assholes who cultivated polished lies. The sooner he got used to it, the better. He would take the R&R then figure out his next move. Time he put in some personal time, anyway. All he had to do was finish the Reeser article. But something about the man nagged at Seth. He should have known better than to take this last-minute assignment. Like a dog with a marrow-stuffed bone, he wouldn’t be able to let his suspicions about Reeser go until he uncovered the whole story.

He told his editor that he didn’t need the gig. But Marco had been ever persistent. “It's
Time Magazine
, Seth,” he said. “It's high profile, Seth,” he said. “You need to keep your mind occupied,” he said.

Seth knew better than to listen to Marco, but he’d accepted the job. And now he was walking away with nothing more than what amounted to a fluff piece. There was a story here. Reeser was no brilliant philanthropist looking after his sick sister. Everything about the guy screamed megalomaniacal ass. According to Seth’s sources, Gentech was in bed with Symcore Weapons. But of course Peter denied it.

All Peter did was gloss over his genetics research, throwing around words like ground-breaking, and game-changing, and a whole slew of other big words he thought would impress. But he hadn't actually said anything.

Seth leaned forward and squinted at the highway exit signs trying to get a better view. Leave it to Marco, insisting on some boutique hotel in the middle of nowhere. Two-lane highways were a bitch. Especially when sheets of rain blackened them to pitch and the visibility was about two feet. Add to that a thick, green forest lining each side to the edge and this little road trip felt like a highway to darkened hell.

A heavy thud jolted the car to the right and had him cursing enough to make his father blush as he swerved.
Just what he needed
. He carefully applied pressure to the brake as he prayed the damn thing had a spare.

He pulled over on what might be considered the shoulder if he used enough imagination. The moment he stepped out of the car, sheets of rain assaulted him, drenching the front of his shirt. “Perfect. God Damn perfect.”

Using his keys to pop
the trunk, he jogged around the back to lift the lid. The door wouldn’t budge. He planted his feet and used more shoulder strength, but his feet slipped on the mud. Maybe his duffle had jammed the damn thing. Patting down his pockets, he groaned. His cell phone was in the trunk along with his notes from the interview. “Of all the freaking days to deal with this kind of shit.”

Bracing his legs,
he grimaced
as his muscles bunched. This time the trunk popped open.

With no light to aid him, the trunk looked like a black hole. Reaching in, he groped for the latch to the spare tire. His fingers came in contact with something soft and cold. Frowning, he reached in further and immediately wished he hadn't. Something
frozen
, but smooth like an—arm. Yanking his hand back, he staggered away from the car.
No
. It couldn't be. “Get a hold of yourself, Seth. You've been reading too much Stephen King,” he mumbled. Regardless of what his rational mind told his body, he still approached the car with caution.

Heart hammering like a thousand stampeding stallions, he reached in again, mentally preparing for something icy and clawed of the alien variety. He patted down the whole trunk with his hands but found nothing. Like a deflating balloon, he slowly let the breath out of his lungs. Driving around in the dark in the middle of the woods
was doing
a job on his psyche.

He hauled out the tire, the jack and a flashlight and got to work. For good measure, he scanned the trunk using the flashlight, but still nothing. “Time to go on vacation, Buddy. You’re losing it.” And that wasn't an exaggeration. Seth had been skating by for the last month. Time to get his act together. He would turn over the Gentech story and be on his way. No need to go looking for trouble.

He changed the tire as best he could with the slick equipment. He hauled the flat back to the truck and levered it into the trunk. As he closed the compartment, something glacial grabbed his hand. “Holy fucking shit!” The bellow came from that dark space inside all human beings that know true fear.

“I'd shut up if I were you. You’ll give away our position. My guess is they have guns trained
in our general direction
, but it sounds like they don’t have our exact location. We need to keep it that way.” A dark haired woman lay on her side in the back of the trunk.

“What. The. Fuck.” Seth's breathing was ragged and sharp. His heart no longer galloped, but whizzed with the alacrity of a high speed train. Absently, he wondered if he would have a heart attack. His brain kicked into overdrive, spinning with questions. Who was she? How had she gotten into his trunk?
When
had she gotten into the trunk?

She climbed out, slowly unfolding her limbs as if she were injured. “I guess you didn't hear me when I said to shut the hell up.” She stretched her legs and arms. “I'll explain later, Seth. We don’t have time for questions
right now
.” She eyed him as if assessing him. “We have two options. Run, or stay and fight. I don’t know how many guys are out there, but you can be sure they have night vision goggles. How are you in a fight?” Her tone was matter-of-fact. Weary even. As if climbing out of trunks was normal for her.

Seth blinked. She was the woman from Gentech. Her hair was dark now, but those pale, winter-green eyes, he’d never get them out of his mind. Man, she was small, maybe five feet two if he was generous. And she asked him if he could fight all the while talking about men with night vision. “What the fuck is going on? What the hell are you doing in my trunk? There are easier ways to get a date, you know.”