Dead World 1, page 8
“Have you had anyone wander in suffering from an animal attack?”
He blinked in surprise. “No, why do you ask?”
“Just curious.” It was worth a shot.
“We deal mostly with farm-related injuries and severe dehydration cases,” he said. “Haven’t experienced an animal attack in I don’t know how long. Is that why you’re here?”
“I needed some time off,” Red hedged.
“Well, in that case, then please call me Kane. Everyone around here does.” He extended his hand.
She shook it. “Gina. Gina Santiago,” she stumbled over her name. “But everyone calls me Red.” Everyone, but her grandfather.
“Pleasure to meet you, Red.” The exchange lingered. “If you need someone to show you around, let me know.”
She tried to pull back, but Kane didn’t immediately release her hand. Discomfort warred with attraction. Red wasn’t sure which one was stronger, but wasn’t in the position or the mood to explore either any further. She cleared her suddenly dry throat. “Can I have my hand back?”
“Of course.” Kane grinned and brushed a thumb over her knuckles before letting her go. “Is that all you needed?”
“For now,” she said.
A different nurse approached Kane and asked him to sign a comp-chart. He did so, but his gaze remained on Red.
His overt attention was a little disconcerting. Red fought the urge to fidget. Her years of training were the only thing that kept her in place. There probably weren’t many women her age living in Nuria.
That could explain the undue attention she’d received earlier from the townspeople and now from Kane. As a single female tactical team member, Red was used to being an oddity.
She waited until the nurse left before she continued to speak. “Actually, Dr. Hunter—”
“Kane,” he corrected, then glanced at his watch. “Sorry, but I have to go, or I’ll be late for rounds.”
“Thank you for your time.” Red turned to leave but stopped short. “Kane, you wouldn’t happen to know of a good share space in town, would you? My navcom is having difficulty locating basic facilities.”
He appeared to think about her question for a minute. “Try Jesse Lindley’s place. It’s down a couple of blocks. Turn right on Evergreen, and then hang a left on Spruce. She’s not the friendliest person you’ll ever meet, but her space is clean, safe, and well equipped. She’s not cheap, but her place is the best in town.”
“Thanks!” Red walked toward the front entrance. The doors slid open as she approached.
“Maybe I’ll see you around,” he called out.
“I’m sure,” Red said. “It’s a small town.”
He coughed. “That wasn’t exactly what I meant.”
Red glanced over her shoulder and grinned. “I know.”
She left the emergency care center to go find the share space. As handsome as Dr. Kane Hunter was, he didn’t keep her attention for long. Instead, Red’s thoughts drifted back to the brooding image of Morgan Hunter. Partly out of curiosity, but mainly apprehension. Would he live up to his surly reputation?
Kane had said they were related, but there was nothing in the file about it. Had he lied? Possible, but unlikely. Boundary town files were oftentimes woefully incomplete. Not that it mattered, but it might explain why they remained in Nuria.
Red located an automated food dispenser and purchased a protein pack to quiet her growling stomach, then headed to Jesse Lindley’s place.
Jesse was a stocky, cantankerous woman, who’d been named after her father. She ran a water trader business along with the share space. She looked to be in her mid-to-late fifties with gray hair, a deceptively open expression, and an eye-patch.
Red didn’t ask how she came by the eye-patch. The fact that she had one and looked like a pirate out of the history vids was all Red needed to know.
Jesse agreed to give her a room for fifty credits a week—a steep price but well worth it. Red didn’t bother to haggle for two reasons. One, the woman desperately appeared to need the credits. And two, a room above a water exchange was the best place to be to catch local gossip. Eventually everyone in town would come to get their water supplies.
Red climbed the stairs two at a time. The hall that led to her room was swathed from floor to ceiling in yellow and pale pink flowers. They’d been painted or stenciled on the walls. She couldn’t tell which.
Several thick animal hides buffered the floors, silencing footsteps. She stared at the fur a second but couldn’t identify the species. Red resisted the urge to touch them and kept walking.
The place was not quite what she’d been expecting after meeting Jesse. Somehow the words “soft” and “feminine” didn’t quite capture her true essence.
Red placed her palm against the scanner next to her door. It hummed as it ran her IPTT identity through the Republic of Arizona’s registrar system. A beep sounded when it finished. The door in front of her opened a second later.
She entered the large square room with its cheery bright yellow walls and dropped her black duffle bag on the rest pad in the far corner. She sat beside the bag and bounced, testing the rest pad’s firmness. It was hard. Not her preference, but it would do for a night or two.
Red glanced around the space, shocked to realize her entire housing unit could easily fit inside this place with room to spare.
Another area jutted off from the main living space. Red walked to the doorway and ran her hand over a panel in the wall. A light came on and she gasped.
Jesse had attached a cleansing unit to the room. This gave her an unusual amount of privacy for a public house. Water rationing had all but done away with Old World ideas of modesty.
Murmuring voices from below reached her ears. It sounded like several people had gathered on the first floor. She decided to check it out, since much could be learned from local gossip. Red left her room and made her way down the stairs.
She glanced around at the growing crowd, recognizing a few of the people she’d passed on the street earlier. She fought the urge to jump into the fray and start firing off questions.
Contrary to what she wished, this was not a sanctioned investigation, only a fishing expedition. At least she had three days of leave—not that she’d need them all, but it meant that there was no reason to hurry.
Direct questions wouldn’t work here. One thing all boundary towns had in common was their tight-lipped mentality. Nuria may be friendly on the surface, but they didn’t need or want help from the outside. Whatever happened here, stayed here. Whether that be wild animal troubles or murder. It was time to find the sheriff.
9
Morgan smelled her long before he laid eyes on her. He knew Gina Santiago was coming. Everyone in town had let him know the second she’d arrived. But that didn’t lessen the impact.
Like a cool breeze alleviates stifling heat, she blew into the gray dissecting unit, dispersing the odor of disinfectant and death, leaving the aroma of ripe, moist woman in her wake.
All Morgan could do was stand there and stare, what he’d been about to tell Jim Thornton completely forgotten.
The tension in the air thickened the moment their gazes met. Her eyes were an unusual greenish-gold and seemed to glisten under his regard.
Her black civilian clothing resembled the official tactical team uniform in every respect except one—the fit. Instead of the loose material that all team members wore, her clothes appeared to be painted on her luscious curves, leaving little to his already strained imagination.
The cool dissecting unit air caused her nipples to harden beneath her shirt. The hard ridges teased his eyes and mouth.
One taste would quench Morgan’s curiosity, but would it sate his sudden hunger?
He continued his visual feast.
Her body was a contrast of hard and soft. Wiry muscles corded her sun-kissed arms and shaped her long legs, but did not diminish the fullness of her breasts and lushness of her hips.
She had a wide mouth, pouty lips, and long, black hair that would no doubt cascade down her back if she didn’t have it secured so tightly to the crown of her head. The file he’d accessed didn’t do her justice.
How long had it been since an unattached female entered his town, his territory?
Morgan couldn’t remember. He inhaled, closing his eyes a second as he reached out to her with his senses. He nearly groaned in pleasure. There was something tantalizingly familiar about her, but he couldn’t put his finger on what it was.
Her gaze started at his boots and leisurely traveled up his legs and over his chest, before settling on his face. The visual caress was so intimate, so intense that she might as well have raked him with her claws. Every muscle in Morgan’s body tensed, hardening instantly.
Beside him, Jim laughed and quickly muffled the sound with a cough.
Morgan stiffened at the sudden reminder that they weren’t alone. For a moment, her delicious scent and dark beauty had distracted him from the fact that she was a tactical team member. Wouldn’t be smart to do that again.
He approached her, his long legs eating up the distance between them. She made no attempt to acknowledge his position in the community. She did not bow her head or lower her gaze, even when he gave her a hard stare.
Strange.
“Can I help you?” His baritone voice rumbled barely avoiding a growl. Morgan circled her and sniffed twice. He’d been right. She was beyond ripe.
She followed his movements with her eyes, never allowing him out of her sight. “You should take something for that.”
Morgan blinked and stopped in front of her. “What?”
“You sniffed,” she said. “Thought you were coming down with something.”
“Maybe I like the way you smell.” It was the truth. Her rich scent was driving him crazy. He couldn’t get enough of it.
Her eyes widened, then slowly narrowed in suspicion. “My name is Gina Santiago.” She reluctantly extended her hand. “But you can call me Red.”
Morgan shook it, surprised by the roughness he could feel etching her palm. She obviously didn’t work behind a desk. He released her reluctantly, when every fiber of his being screamed to draw her close and bury his nose in her nape.
“Is there something I can do for you, Miz Santiago? We don’t normally get much attention from the tactical team, unless they need something.” He tilted his head. “Looking for a donation? If so, I could’ve saved you a trip.”
She snorted. “Hardly, but I’ll keep you in mind for next year.”
“You do that,” he said.
She smiled and Morgan’s knees threatened to buckle. “So how did you know who I was?”
Morgan stepped into her personal space to see how she would react. Gina held her ground, showing no signs of submission. Her actions were telling and pleased him more than they should.
“I spotted your vehicle coming a mile away. Even if I hadn’t, half the town has called me.” His lips quirked. “You’re big news here in Nuria.” He gave her another slow perusal. “Now, I see what the fuss was about.”
“Thanks,” sarcasm dripped from her words. Gina crossed her arms and glowered at him. “You can drop the flirtatious act. This isn’t a social call.”
“Who says it’s an act?” Morgan didn’t like that she wasn’t taking his interest seriously.
“Your personnel file.” She glanced around the tiny room. Her gaze landed on several of the lab assistants huddled in the corner around a small viewing screen that highlighted Roark Montgomery.
He appeared to be pushing his platform on protecting the “blood purity” of the human race again.
Morgan tried not to listen to the politician spew his racist venom but just couldn’t stomach it. “Turn that crap off!” he snarled, glaring at the lab tech who held the remote.
Gina took a step back.
The screen dimmed and a tense silence permeated the room.
“Guess I know who you’ll be voting for come election time,” she said.
Morgan shot her a sharp glance. She couldn’t possibly support that monster. Yet, from the earnest expression on her face, he knew that she did. Something wasn’t right. What wasn’t he seeing? Morgan looked closer, unsure what to make of this woman.
“Is there somewhere private we can talk?” she asked.
“Of course, Miz Santiago.”
“Red,” she corrected.
He motioned toward the door. “We can speak in my office.”
Morgan had taken one step, when her fingers curled around his bicep. Warmth rocketed through his blood and his heart slammed into his ribs. Her touch was so soft, caressing, and...familiar.
Yet he knew they’d never met.
He tensed, as a vision of the erotic dream he’d had flashed in his mind. Get it together. It’s just wishful thinking on your part.
Now that the thought had entered his mind, Morgan could think of little else. If Gina could do that with a single touch, what would happen when he spread her body beneath him?
Morgan froze. When had he decided he’d have her? He wasn’t sure, but it hardly mattered now that the decision had been made.
She was perfect.
He shook his head in denial. What he was considering was utter madness. She was a member of the IPTT. For all intents and purposes, that made her his enemy. But Morgan couldn’t deny his wants, and he wasn’t about to ignore his needs—especially when they were screaming at him to act.
“Before we go, is there anything of interest in there?” Gina pointed to the double doors leading into the dissecting lab.
Her question dashed his ardor and made Morgan decidedly uneasy. What did she know? Was that why she was in Nuria?
“Nothing other than bodies,” he said. “Why do you ask?”
Gina rose to her toes and tried to look through the scratched windows. What in the hell was she doing now? Morgan casually squared his body, using his shoulders to block her view.
“Just curious,” she said. “I rarely get his far south.”
Lie.
She was definitely here for a reason. If it wouldn’t raise suspicion, Morgan would kick her cute ass out of town right now. He quelled the urge. “It would be nice if the tactical team finally took an interest in our illegal boundary-crossing problem. We’ve been trying for months to get additional patrols.”
Gina bristled and slowly lowered her heels to the ground. “We do our best to patrol the area.”
“If this is the best you can do,” Morgan said, “I’d hate to see what happens when you drop the ball. Follow me.”
Morgan led Red out the door and into the street. She half expected him to tell her to go to hell. She wouldn’t have blamed him if he had. It was obvious the town had been left to fend for itself for too long.
Had he really requested assistance from IPTT? If so, why hadn’t she heard about it? Bannon had never mentioned anything, when he’d assigned her to patrol the vast area. A sinking feeling settled in the pit of her stomach.
If requests weren’t fulfilled, the officer assigned to the area was generally held accountable. Red made a mental note to have a long discussion with Bannon once she returned to headquarters.
They walked past a couple of outfitting shops before reaching his office. Red barely glanced at the storefronts as they passed by. For some reason, her eyes zeroed in on and refused to leave his perfectly compact backside.
Morgan was a lean man with sinewy muscles, but was in no way skinny. His shock of dark hair hung to his shoulders in wild disarray, showing a blatant disregard for law enforcement grooming standards. What other rules did he ignore?
“Gina, your heart-rate is accelerating and the temperature of your skin is rising. Do you need assistance?” Rita chimed, coming out of standby mode.
Morgan glanced over his shoulder and caught her staring at his ass. He arched a brow, but his eyes glittered with amusement.
“See something you like?” he asked.
“Not particularly,” she ground out.
“Gina, your palms are beginning to sweat and your nip—” Red slammed her hand down on the navcom. It took two tries to hit the right button to shut Rita off.
“She’s been malfunctioning lately. I thought I got her fixed, but there’s obviously still a glitch in her system.” Red hoped that Morgan believed her.
“That’s some glitch.”
The look he gave Red made it clear that he’d seen through her flimsy excuse. What was it about the men in this town? She wasn’t used to men looking at her that way. For that matter, she wasn’t used to men noticing her at all. Most couldn’t see past the uniform and the ones who had rarely wanted anything to do with her.
Kane and Morgan Hunter didn’t have that problem. They paid far too much attention. For a heartbeat, Red feared what Morgan might see. Yet, when he met her eyes again, his expression had changed.
Until that moment, Red hadn’t known that it was possible to simultaneously convey sexual desire and resentment. She found the ability disconcerting.
Was he toying with her? That’s what it felt like he’d been doing since they met.
She wouldn’t allow Morgan or anyone else to manipulate her. He would find that out the hard way, if he kept up this ruse.
“I haven’t seen one of those navcoms in years,” he said, cutting her off before she could utter a word.
She bristled, expecting him to make a snide comment like Bannon regularly did, but Morgan surprised her again.
“They don’t make them like they used to. I wish I would’ve hung onto mine.”
His statement took the fight right out of her.
“We’re here.” Morgan opened the door and waited for her to step inside. The show of manners reminded Red of her grandfather, despite the decades of difference in their ages.
He signaled to a clerk and one of his deputies in the other room, before pressing a button to shut the door. “Please take a seat, Miz Santiago.” He drew out her name, swirling it on his tongue like a sweet until she shivered in response.
“Call me Red,” she insisted.
