The research. My life's work. The cure. That's all that matters.
Still, I can't help asking, "Can't you just leave me?"
"No." He holds my elbow firmly and guides me to the door of the van. "You saw those gunmen. They're after both of us."
Right. Or he wants me to believe that so I won't run away.
"You want to stay alive? Buckle up. I'll get us out of here."
Gnawing on my lip, I do as he says. Until I see my chance to get the hell away from him.
He drives like a maniac, making sudden turns and keeping off main roads. I grip the seat edge.
He could be taking me somewhere to kill me. Or, he could be telling the truth.
I have no reason to trust him. But after hosting Smyth and Santiago with all their bodyguards today, after all the gunfire I just saw, I have to admit not all is as it seems at Data-X. What reason would they have for treating our research facility like a military compound in a war zone?
"What did you mean by all they've done?" I ask finally.
"You know those cells you told me about?"
"Yes…"
"Did they ever tell you the source?"
My gut tightens as I brace myself for his revelation. He's going to say something crazy, like aliens. Or superhumans.
He flips his right forearm over to show me his tattoos. No-I look closer. The tattoos are there to cover scars. Track after track, like a junkie's-and burns, too.
I suck in a breath. What is he showing me? I brush my fingers over the marks and he jerks away like I scalded him. "Are you telling me you were the source of the cells? And it was unwilling?"
His jaw flexes, mouth forms a grim line. "I'm saying you have no clue what's going on back there."
Irritation spikes. "Well, why don't you explain it to me, then?" I snap.
His gaze slides from the road to me, assessing and cool.
When he doesn't answer, I make my move, snatching the gun he set down in the console between us and pointing it at him. I put every bit of steel I have into my voice. "Pull over."
Annoyance flickers across his expression and his hand flashes out.
I don't mean to-but I don't have time to think. I just pull the trigger. I scream at my own mistake, drowning out the sound of the shot.
No, wait. There wasn't a deafening bang.
It's a tranquilizer gun. The dart strikes my captor in the place where arm meets chest.
"Fuck, Layne," he bites out and swerves the van sharply to the side of the road and throws it in park. At first I think it's because he's going to get out and kill me, but then he slumps over the wheel, knocked out cold.
I thank God he had the foresight to pull over so we both didn't die. As I reach over and turn off the ignition, it strikes me that he's smart. And capable. And so damn sexy. And why in the hell am I admiring a crazy man who just kidnapped me and stole my data?
I shove my hand in his jeans pocket and jockey the data drive out. In the glove compartment I find a cell phone. I grab it and the data drive and jump out of the vehicle. I have no clue where we are, other than the Middle of Nowhere, California. Data-X's lab is near Alpine, California, in the Cuyamaca Mountains of San Diego County. The van traveled higher into the mountains on a single-lane highway.
I walk a half-mile in the dark and stop, winded. I really need to get more exercise.
This is stupid. I'm taking the van. He can walk.
I head back to the van and open the driver's side door. I guess I hoped my captor would just sort of fall out of the van so I could climb in, but no such luck. I pry his arms up off the steering wheel and pull, hard.
He hardly budges, and his arms weigh about a half-ton each. I stop to gather my strength, and find my eyes drawn to his scars again.
Was he telling me the truth? That he got those scars as a test subject for Data-X? I find it hard to believe, but after seeing the machine guns today, things aren't adding up. I'll have to ask Smyth about it when I call.
But first I need to get away from Crazy Man.
I put my foot on the running board and pull with all my might. He tumbles out of the van on top of me, knocking me down with his dead weight.
I giggle hysterically. This is the second time today I've found myself underneath his mass of solid, wiry muscle and it's doing funny things to my libido. I wriggle out from under him and climb up into the van.
After an agonizingly slow three point turn, I race the van down the mountainside, calling information for Data-X's main number, because I don't have it memorized.
~.~
Sam
FUUUUUUUCK.
I wake to the headache of the century. I'm lying face down in the dirt and-
Layne!
I scramble to my feet. How long was I out? Probably a minimum of forty-five minutes, based on the dosage I had packed in those tranq darts. They're intended to take down a shifter for up to an hour, a human for six.
There's no sign of the van, but based on the tire tracks, she headed back the way we came.
My hands fly to my pockets. Yep, she took the data drive.
I whip my shirt off over my head and yank down my jeans and boxer briefs, rolling them into a bundle I can carry in my mouth once I've shifted. My wolf surges to the surface and I experience a flash of panic as he takes over.
It was out here in these mountains where I almost lost my humanity forever. If it hadn't been for Jackson, I'd be nothing more than an extremely dangerous animal right now.