Dead World 2, page 22
Raphael's head snapped back and he smiled, licking the blood oozing from his lip. He got a hold of her arm once more. In some cultures, this would be considered foreplay.
Goodness knows he was getting harder the longer they fought. "Catherine, did you know that when you lie the tips of your ears turn pink?"
Her fingers moved of their own volition to her ears before she realized what she was doing. "How did you know my name?" she asked.
"I'm curious, does Roark know what you are? Does the team? Or have you kept yourself hidden?" he asked, slowly walking her backward toward the dissecting lab's rear entrance.
"I don't know what you mean." Fear flashed in her eyes, before quickly being doused with anger. "Let me go or you're going to be sorry."
"That's an empty threat. You and I both know that."
“It’s not,” she said.
He inhaled, taking her strangely alluring scent into his lungs. Raphael still couldn't readily identify her Otherness. She was a puzzle. And he loved puzzles.
"I'm genuinely curious,” he said. “Can't you do me the courtesy of answering, since I've yet to hit you back?"
She glanced at his hands, no doubt taking in their large size for the first time. Raphael had no intention of striking her, but she didn't know that.
"Roark doesn't care who or what I am," she said with a little too much bravado.
"Now that's where you're wrong, little one. He cares very much." Raphael tilted his head. "My guess is he doesn't know or you'd be locked up, buried in some hole, praying for a glimpse of sunlight."
She trembled. "Are you going to tell him?" she asked hesitantly, looking oddly vulnerable.
Raphael's heart stuttered in his chest. "That depends," he said, surprised by his reaction to the fiery urchin.
"On what?" In a flash, Catherine was back to fighting and being indignant.
"On what happens next," he said, pressing forward. The door opened behind her and she fell inside.
Raphael landed on top of her before she could get up. "You and I are going to have a long talk."
"I don't know anything. I'm here under orders just like everyone else."
"Your orders were to shoot first and ask questions later?” he asked. “I find that odd given that no one else has fired a shot."
The fear was back in her green eyes, along with genuine confusion. "My orders are...they are..." She blinked. “Must follow orders."
Raphael noted her hesitance, her confusion. She wasn’t lying. He would have scented it on her had she been. She genuinely couldn't remember. He'd known soldiers who’d had their thoughts altered, but that had been a lifetime ago. He stared at her, memorizing her lightly freckled face.
For a moment, he saw another's face superimposed upon hers. Just as quickly the image faded from memory, replaced once again by Catherine's. "Protests aside, you aren't like everyone else."
"I am, too," she squeaked. "Now let me up. You're squishing me."
He shifted, allowing her to breathe easier, and then carefully probed her mind. Raphael was met with a wall that had no beginning and no end. Very interesting. He pressed harder and she tried to put her hand to her head, but he held her down.
"Ouch! You’re hurting me." She glared at him. "What are you doing to me? Whatever it is knock it off."
"Apparently nothing." Raphael had never met anyone he couldn't access mentally, at least to some degree. Others were harder to gain entry to, but it was possible. The trick was getting past their defenses. She had defenses like he'd never seen before.
Raphael nuzzled her neck and felt her shudder beneath him. Her breathing deepened and she stopped struggling. Her scent changed subtly and he smiled. So she was enjoying their tussle, too. Maybe it wouldn't be impossible after all.
He hadn't intended to seduce her. That had been the furthest thing from his mind. Raphael just wanted answers. Or at least he had until she intrigued him.
Catherine moved restlessly beneath him and his shaft hardened instantly. The response was both unexpected and unwelcome. He took a breath and closed his eyes. Raphael's fangs ached with the need to bite her.
"Meyers, report," Roark's voice blasted over her navcom, shaking them both.
“Tell him you're okay." Raphael squeezed her wrists in warning.
"No way," she said.
"Do it or I'll take you away from here so fast they won't ever find you."
Catherine stared into his eyes, gauging his words, then finally did as she was told. "Meyers reporting all clear."
"We heard shots. Is everything okay?" Roark asked.
"Yes, I was just scaring off an animal.” She glared at him. “I’d like to stay and look around some more. I'll catch up with the team tomorrow."
"Good idea,” he said. “Remember, don’t take any unnecessary chances. If you feel threatened, shoot to kill.”
"Yes, sir."
As she responded to Roark, Raphael let his teeth graze over her soft neck. She flinched when he accidentally sliced her.
"Sorry," he whispered, then quickly lapped at the cut so there would be no evidence of his intrusion.
Her blood was sweet, despite her prickly personality. Raphael sucked lightly, swirling his tongue along her rapidly beating pulse. He had to taste her blood in order to break through the defenses in her mind. It wasn't as effective as a blood exchange, but it would still work.
He pushed his will inside her once more. The walls shook and a crack appeared, splintering down the center. Raphael locked eyes with her and shoved harder.
He got a flash of the field where the new recruits trained from her memories. He frowned and nuzzled her neck once more. Laser blasts exploded in his mind, nearly blinding him. Raphael jumped up.
"It was you," he snarled.
"What?" she asked, her expression dazed from his invasion.
"You were the one who destroyed the training equipment outside of town. I saw everything."
She shook her head and scrambled to her feet. "You're mad. I did no such thing. I'm a member of the tactical team. I uphold the law. I don't break it."
"Don't lie to me." But even as Raphael said the words, he realized the woman's scent hadn't changed. She wasn't lying. Or at least she didn't think she was lying.
She brushed off her hands and looked around for her weapon, obviously forgetting she'd left it outside. Or maybe she was just looking for something else to use in order to attack him again.
"Stay away from me." Catherine was shaking now and it had nothing to do with the desire he'd elicited moments ago. She hugged herself and began to pace.
Raphael followed her thoughts. They were jumping all around like a maze that had been scrambled, which didn't make sense. Unless...
"Come here," he commanded.
She swung on him. "Keep away."
"I said come here," his voice lowered and he pressed his will upon her. Raphael hadn't wanted to do it, but he needed the truth.
Her feet dragged as Catherine crossed the floor, moving ever so slowly toward him. Her lungs were heaving by the time she stood in front of him. She'd fought him every step of the way and he couldn't help but admire her for it.
"How did you do that?" she asked.
"Why should I answer you, when you feel disinclined to answer me?" He grabbed her arms and pulled her close, pressing her chest against his.
"What are you doing?" Catherine asked suddenly breathless.
"Seeking the truth. The whole truth. Even the things that are hidden within your mind," he said, a second before he bit into her neck.
This time Raphael didn't treat her gently. He needed answers. And he wanted her to feel fear and pain. If she was the one behind the sabotage, she wouldn't be leaving Nuria. He'd make sure of it.
Her blood flooded his mouth. Raphael closed his eyes and groaned at the savory flavor. His hands loosened and slowly dropped, inching their way down her arms and over her waist.
Information was coming at him so fast he could barely process it. He saw the training facility. Saw her shooting it up. He even saw her escape.
Raphael was about to release her, when the crosshairs of a rifle flashed in his mind. A single serrated blade followed the vision. He saw a man fall, then another.
He wouldn't have thought anything of this had it not been for the location of the second kill. He recognized it as the back of the water trader depot.
Outraged, Raphael shoved her away, blood dripping down his chin and onto his shirt. "You! It was you who killed them."
She was pale, whether from the blood loss or discovery, he couldn't tell. She trembled and retreated a step.
"I-I—I did no such thing. I don't know what you're talking about." Catherine clutched her head and cried out.
"I should do Nuria a favor and execute you right this second. If there wasn't an entire tactical team in the center of town, I would."
Catherine's head throbbed like she'd been punched in the face repeatedly. Memories she didn't understand or recognize flashed in her mind, ending in blood and bodies. "I couldn't have. There's no reason for me to have come here before."
"Then how did you know where you were going when Roark ordered you to search the area?" he asked.
"I did—" The words cut off in her throat. She had known where she was going. Or at least something about the place had seemed vaguely familiar.
Like a remembered dream or a chance memory, she'd wandered the back alleys knowing exactly where she was going. But that was impossible. She'd never been to Nuria before today.
"I don't understand what's happening," she said.
"There's nothing to understand. You're a killer and a saboteur. Both of which can get you executed."
"I didn't do the things you say I did." Catherine frowned and rubbed her temple. "At least I don't think so. I can't remember."
"How convenient." Raphael knew he had to kill her. She'd given him no choice. He considered various methods, and decided on snapping her neck.
She didn't deserve a quick death, but he couldn't bring himself to draw it out. He swallowed, taking in the remnants of her blood, relishing the flavor while it lasted. It scalded his throat. He licked his lips and froze as a strange aftertaste hit him. He hadn't noticed it before. He'd been enjoying her too much.
"What have you taken?” he asked. “Did you swallow poison in an attempt to thwart me?"
"What are you talking about now?" Catherine tugged on her short hair.
"You've imbibed something."
"I haven't taken anything other than a few sips of water on the way down here." She released her hair and fingered her empty holster, probably wishing it still held her gun.
"Your blood doesn't lie. Now tell me what you've taken." Raphael swirled his tongue around his mouth. He'd tasted this before. It had been a long time ago, but the essence was familiar.
She inched toward the door. "I'm going to leave now. This conversation is over."
"You've killed two people and sabotaged a training area. Don't you even want to know why?" he asked.
"No." She shook her head. "If I've done the things you think I have, then I must have had a very good reason."
He snorted. "Like starting a war?"
"I knew you were crazy when I first laid eyes on you," Catherine said. "You had that kind of look about you."
"That is what Roark is trying to do," he said softly, ignoring her verbal jab. "Start a war."
Catherine shook her head and winced. "You're wrong. All he's got are grandiose ideas about uniting the republics. He's not the first of his ilk to have that dream and I doubt he'll be the last."
"Is that what he told you when he recruited you to kill for him?" Raphael watched her, searching for any sign of deception, but could detect none.
"He did no such thing. He just wanted my help on the campaign trail. You're wrong. Dead wrong." She backed away from him, but there was no escaping the truth.
"Am I?" he asked. "I remember now where I've tasted that essence in your blood. It was in a spy who'd been sent to kill me years ago. They'd doused him with influ-gas. I didn't recognize it at the time. It was only later after I'd killed him that I found out why he'd acted the way he had."
"Influ-gas? That's not possible." Her lower lip trembled. "I couldn't have been drugged without knowing it." Fear shadowed the green in her eyes.
"Sure you could. The spy I killed had no idea he was operating under a drug's influence. That's what makes it so dangerous,” he said. “I'm sorry, but whoever gassed you has turned you into an assassin."
25
"Meyers report," Roark ordered.
Tension filled the street. Red sent up a silent prayer that none of her recruits had interfered.
“Meyers report,” Roark bellowed.
The navcom on his wrist crackled. "Meyers here," Catherine said.
"We heard shots. Is everything okay?" Roark asked, making a show of being concerned.
Red wasn't fooled for a minute. He didn't care if the woman was killed. It would be the excuse he was looking for to level the town. And if she happened to kill an Other, well that meant one less creature for him to have to deal with.
"Yes, I was just scaring off an animal. I’d like to stay here and look around some more. I'll catch up with the team tomorrow." Her voice was harsh as if she was out of breath.
"Good idea," Roark said, then added a shoot to kill order.
“I think we should check it out,” Bannon said.
Roark glared at him. "You heard her. She's fine. If she needed help, she'd say so."
Bannon hesitated, his gaze going in the direction Catherine went in. "What if she’s being held against her will?"
"I gave you an order," Roark said, not bothering to hide the menace in his voice.
"Yes, sir." Bannon looked back at Red. "Get a move on.” He pushed her.
"Don't say I didn't warn you," she said, before turning her thoughts to Raphael. She pictured him in the moments before he bit her, then sent out her thoughts.
Are you okay? I heard the shots.
Tinkling laughter filled her mind.
I am fine. Just a minor altercation, nothing I can't handle. How about you?
I'll be all right. Red said what he needed to hear. It was the only way to get out of Nuria without declaring war.
If you aren't back soon, we are coming to get you.
Red knew exactly who he meant by we. She thought about her new recruits and doubted they were ready for this kind of mission.
That's a promise. The thought plunged into her mind, leaving no room for argument.
Despite Red's resolve to remain strong, Raphael's statement came as a relief, even if it turned out to be wishful thinking.
Bannon loaded Red into a transport shuttle without incident. Roark hadn't been able to level the town, thanks to the viewer broadcast her grandfather had organized. She'd fulfilled her promise to Morgan by protecting Nuria. And Red had done it the only way she knew how. She'd sacrificed herself.
She'd be taken to the detention center at IPTT headquarters first before being moved to the larger facility in the Republic of New Mexico for processing. Maybe once she was there, she'd find out what happened to Morgan. There was always someone who liked to brag.
Red settled back for the long ride. It wasn't until the tactical team broke off from Roark's vehicle that she'd realized there'd been a change in plans.
"Where are they going?" she asked him.
Roark didn't look back. ”To IPTT headquarters."
"And why aren't we going with them?" Her stomach fluttered as nerves set in. "Shouldn't they escort me to their detention center for processing?" The restraints bit into her wrists.
"You aren't going to any detention center. Did I forget to mention that?" He laughed.
And just like that the flutters in her stomach turned to fear. "That's against regulations" she said. "I'm only wanted for questioning. You can't hold me longer than forty-eight hours."
Roark’s eyes narrowed. "I'm afraid you'll be in my custody longer than that."
"Which republic are you taking me to?"
"Missouri."
"So we're skipping IPTT and going straight to the detention center in Missouri? I want to see Samuel Duncan when we arrive." She tried to squelch the panic. The republic leader would be able to get word to her grandfather.
"I'm not sure if you've noticed, but you are in no position to make demands," Roark said.
She'd noticed Bannon had taken great pleasure in placing the restraints on her as tight as they could go. Red had already lost some circulation in her hands. If it hadn't been for her navcom Rita sending pulses to keep the nerve endings stimulated, she would've lost all feeling.
"I'm not hiding Morgan," she said, changing the subject.
"I know," he said.
Red blinked. She hadn’t expected him to agree so easily.
"What do you mean, you know?” Her eyes narrowed on him. Was he about to make a confession? Red wished she could see his face or better yet, record it.
Rita...
"Isn't it obvious?" He shrugged. "I have him. I guess fucking animals has dulled your instincts."
Red didn't respond to the insult, concentrating instead on getting as much information out of him as she could. She hit the record button on Rita. He'd accused her of losing some of her tactical team instincts, but Red would show him just how much she remembered.
"If you have Morgan Hunter, then why do you need me?" she asked.
"For pure enjoyment." Roark grinned in the mirror. "You'd have been dead by now if Kane hadn't fallen for you and fucked things up. He had orders to kill you."
"What you're doing is highly illegal. If the tactical team found out, you would be arrested and your career would be ruined," she said.
He stopped the shuttle and scrambled back to where she sat on the floor. He grabbed her by the front of the shirt and lifted her off the ground.
"But they aren't going to find out," he hissed. "I'll report your escape just like I reported Morgan Hunter's. Everyone will assume you two are together."
"They won't believe you." She tried to shift so Rita could pick up the whole conversation.
"Don't think I've forgotten how you used that navcom to keep me from leveling Nuria." Roark released her and reached down, ripping Rita off her arm.
