Faith rustled through the kitchen’s refrigerator, selecting two varieties of cheese sticks. Next she hit the cupboards and added an assortment of crackers in small, plastic packages to the sack she’d grabbed off a hook. Two apples and two bananas followed along with napkins.

She was surprised she wasn’t more rattled from the attack, except it had been laughable. Neither she nor the other women had ever been in serious danger. It would take a whole lot more armed men to be any kind of threat. Now that they understood they had to practice vigilance, anyone even getting as close as the five men had would be unlikely.

A thought slapped her hard. They were far more competent fighters than even the most highly trained humans. It was what they’d been designed for, but their ability had never truly been put to the test before they blew up the breeding farms and fled.

Too bad they didn’t program us to be good at farming. Would’ve made those seven years a whole lot easier.

A wry laugh escaped.

“What’s so funny? I could use a joke about now.” Reg walked into the kitchen buckling a shoulder holster into place and sliding a pistol into it.

She offered him a shy smile. “Nothing, really.” She extended her full carry sack. “Did you want to munch on something while we walk over there?”

“We should drive. Those ten minutes are up, and it’s at least a fifteen minute walk.” He reached into the bag and extracted a bag of crackers. “Good choice. Totally devoid of nutrition, but they taste great.”

“Would you like me to get something else?” Faith chewed her lower lip. Pleasing Dr. Thomas was high on her list.

“Not at all. These are great. That wasn’t a criticism. Let’s go.” He snagged a set of keys off the board near the front door and glanced at the number of the pool car so he could find it easily.

Faith followed him outside. He waited until she drew even with him and took the food bag. “Thanks,” she said.

“Car’s over there.” He jerked his head at a row of identical black SUVs lined up on the far side of the street. “How you holding up?”

“Fine. You’d asked what was funny earlier. I was thinking about how I’m made. We were developed to be warriors, not farmers. If we’d had a few more practical skills built into our processing units, compound life would’ve been easier.”

“No one expected you guys to bolt.” Reg walked around the car and opened the door for her. He settled behind the wheel, still munching crackers, and flicked the ignition, positioning the food bag on the console between them.

“Do you blame us?” She dug down to the cheese and unwrapped a stick, chewing quickly.

“No. Not after what happened with V2.” He pulled away from the curb, driving faster than Langley’s speed limit, but the road was empty of other traffic.

“How would you know much about that? You were in the Middle East then.”

Reg looked sidelong at her. “And you know that how?”

Faith felt her face heat. Even in the dimly lit car, she was certain she turned color. “I might’ve peeked.”

“I gathered that, but did you take the information from my mind or from the CIA’s personnel records?”

“Little of both,” she muttered, wondering how to change the conversational topic without being obvious about it.

“Why did you care enough to bother?”

The question was pointed, direct. Something a freak might’ve asked. “Since it was looking like I’d be working for you, I wanted as much information as possible.” Faith sucked in a ragged breath. Not exactly the whole truth, but close enough.

“Did you check up on Charlie when you were assigned to his squadron?”

“Didn’t have to. Charity already had.”

Reg started to laugh. He was still laughing when he pulled the car into a spot a block from Milton’s building and got out.

Before he could come around and open her door, Faith jumped out, still clutching the bag of food. “Glad I can be a source of amusement,” she said stiffly. He was laughing at her, and she wanted him to stop.

“Not amusement,” he clarified. “Awe, amazement, admiration. You women are really something. My hat’s off to you.”

“Really?” she stammered. Her face grew warm all over again, and she redirected blood away from her overactive capillary beds.

“Really.” He closed a hand around her lower arm and pivoted until he faced her. “We’re already late. Two more minutes won’t matter much.”

Faith squared her shoulders, waiting. Was he going to tell her he’d rethought having her work in his lab because of the unrest at Langley? Maybe his compliment had been salve to grease the bad news that was coming.

“You look like you’re waiting for an axe to fall.” He caught her gaze with his. “If anything I say makes you uncomfortable, ever, please tell me.”

“I will.” Faith stopped shy of telling him to get on with whatever he had to say.

“I was really looking forward to sharing dinner with you and the other women tonight. In the cafeteria, not sitting in straight back chairs around a conference table with Milton issuing orders. Maybe tomorrow after work, we can catch supper somewhere. I’d like it if you’d let me take you off campus to something a little more private than the cafeteria. A place we could get to know one another better.”

Her eyes widened, and when her face grew hot, she didn’t bother squelching it. “Y-you—” she spluttered. “Did you just ask me on a date?” Her voice was high and squeaky, and she felt like an idiot.

Dr. Thomas smiled. “I guess I did. Will you accept?”

“Yes. I’d like that.” Her heart did galloping flip-flops in her chest. She cautioned her overly reactive body that it was nothing. He was being kind. Still, she couldn’t help hoping this would be the beginning of her very own love story.

Whoa. Whoa. Whoa. Talk about getting ahead of myself.

“Excellent. I promise I don’t bite, and I’ll behave. Now that we have that settled, we should go inside. I get some latitude for tardiness because of my patient obligations, but especially tonight, I don’t want to push Milton too far.” He took the food bag and tucked it under one arm. “Feel like a jog?”

She loped next to him as they ran toward the meeting room. Tonight was critical. Between her and the other freaks, they’d be able to identify dissenting thought patterns. Once they’d reported names to Milton and Roy at the end of the night, they might be able to put an end to this particular problem.

“Have you heard anything about further attacks?” she asked.

“Not since what happened to you.”

“Not what I meant. I was referring to outbreaks like the one that leveled the CIA installation in Los Angeles.”

Reg slapped his palm against a reader and held the building’s door open for her. “No. But I’m often not in that loop. Milton doesn’t usually bother me unless he needs something medical.”

She ran down a hall and up a set of stairs with Reg right behind her, the feel of his energy solid and reassuring. He had a quiet strength and competence that appealed to her. Not flamboyant like Milton and Roy and Charlie, but just as capable.

The double doors leading into the big conference room stood open, and she ducked through. The large conference table was absent, and chairs had been set up theater-style in tight rows.

“Nice you could join us tonight.” Sarcasm sheeted from Milton’s greeting.

Reg waved cheerily and headed for the first empty row of seats, which was about two-thirds of the way back.

“Drinks and sandwiches are on the table,” Milton went on. “Get food before you sit.”

Reg bent toward her, speaking low. “Do you want something to drink?”

“I’ll get us coffees,” she offered. “Unless you’d prefer something else.”

“Coke, please.” He winked. “Another of those empty calorie indulgences. Need something equally devoid of nutritional value to match up with our snacks.”

He made his way to the end of a row while Faith strode to a table laden with food. She got a can of Coke, a cup of coffee, and piled two roast beef sandwiches atop napkins on a plate.

“Your assignment is the six rows immediately in front of you.” Frank’s mind voice intruded into her pleasant musings about Dr. Thomas. She loved listening to the doctor talk. He had an easy way and a deep, sensual voice. Particularly when she compared it with Frank’s that had all the allure of a buzz saw—even in its telepathic form.

“Got it,” she replied. “Both sides of the aisle, right?”

“Exactly. Why were you late?” Frank asked.

Oh-oh.

Faith considered not answering, but Frank could be relentless. “I don’t report to you. I was helping in the infirmary.”

“You wouldn’t by any chance be the reason the doctor is so concerned about the women?”

Faith made her way back to where Dr. Thomas was waiting. She felt Frank’s scrutiny and knew he was waiting for her to respond. Reg took the sandwich plate from her, and she settled next to him.

“Well?” Frank prodded.

“I have no idea what Dr. Thomas is concerned about or why,” she retorted. “Leave me be and scan your part of the room.”

“What was that about?” Reg asked softly. “I can feel the kinetic energy that means you’re talking, but that’s as far as it goes.”

Faith shook her head and broke off a corner of sandwich, stuffing it into her mouth. She really was hungry. “Nothing. Just my assignment.”

He looked like he wanted to ask more. Instead, he started on the other sandwich.

Milton ran lightly to the double doors and shut them. “I’ve posted sentries,” he informed the group. “No one leaves this room without my express permission.” He returned to the front and stood facing the group.

“Seems a bit Draconian, sir,” someone mumbled.

“No comments unless I request them,” Milton snapped. “Everyone is here except for a few medical personnel manning the infirmary, and a bare bones IT crew monitoring incoming intel.”

He clicked a few buttons on a computer terminal. “Medical and IT. You listening?”

After a chorus of yes sir, Milton scanned the group with his dark eyes. “We have a problem. Everyone likely knows something about it, but I’m going to fill in the blanks. We accepted genetically modified humans at the CIA because I was convinced they’d make exceptional agents. They haven’t disappointed me.”

He stopped to slug down something in a mug, probably coffee. “What has disappointed and disheartened me have been those of you—” he paused for effect “—who decided in your bigoted little hearts that you didn’t want anyone but the purely human here. Who knows? Maybe the freaks’ ability to converse telepathically got to you. Maybe their superior physical prowess made you feel threatened.

“Regardless of your reasons, this mutiny stops now. The genetically modified are not only here to stay, I’m hoping to add to their ranks as more and more compounds fold. This is America, folks. That means we accept everyone no matter what color their skin is or what their genetic configuration happens to be.”

“It’s not safe to have them here.” A man near the front shot to his feet.

“Why not?” Milton countered.

The man jerked his chin toward Glory, who happened to be sitting not far from him. “Those women killed five of us tonight.”

Honor bolted to her feet and rounded on him. “They attacked us first. What would you have had us do? Lie back while they shredded us with their knives?”

“Don’t you people have something like stun in your arsenal?” the man demanded. “Did you have to kill them?”

“Yes, we can disable,” Glory answered. “But we were set upon. They told us they planned to kill us. In my book, that’s justification for us to strike first.”

“That’s your story,” the man countered. “None of your victims are alive to tell theirs.”

“Enough!” Milton thundered. “Sit down or I’ll have you escorted to a cell.”

“Someone has to speak for us,” the man protested as he folded back into his chair.

Milton spread his arms wide. “Look around you. We have blacks and Asians in this room. Mexicans, Europeans.”

“Do not forget mother Russia,” an accented voice shouted from near where Faith sat.

“Yup.” Milton snorted. “Even Russians. Some of you are straight. Some are gay. Some have been married forever, and others have been divorced so many times, you’ve lost count. Some of you have children. Some not. Every college degree is represented, from English to engineering to medicine. We have diversity, people. The freaks are just one more aspect of that. They’re here to stay. Get used to it.”

He dropped his arms to his sides. “I will not tolerate any further episodes of antagonism against the genetically modified. I will court-martial, suspend from active duty, and take any other steps I feel are critical to achieving integration. We created an entire group of human beings, and then handed them the raw end of the stick when they rebelled because of our fuck ups. I’m not going to make that worse by standing by and doing nothing, while a few small-minded agents decide to be vigilantes.”

Milton fell silent and blew out a weary-sounding breath. “Questions?”

A rustling susurrus moved around the room. Faith glanced at Dr. Thomas sitting beside her. Leaning close, she whispered. “He really meant that. I’m astonished he’d take up for us against those like him.”

“Milton’s like that,” Dr. Thomas whispered back. “He’ll go to the mat for what he believes. It’s one of the reasons he commands absolute respect from his men. A lot of officers send their troops to do the shit work. Not Milton. He’s always there in the thick of things, taking the same risks he ordered others to.”

“Is this meeting over?” a woman asked from near the front of the room.

“Not quite yet,” Milton replied and said something to Roy.

He moved through the room stopping for a moment beside each freak. When he paused next to Faith, she shook her head. “No names from me,” she sent telepathically. Roy could hear her because he’d had the injection series. He made his way to the front of the room and looked at Milton. She felt the kinetics from their awkward attempts at telepathy, but it didn’t matter how clumsy they were. The humans in the room would never hear what Roy said.

Milton rattled off four names. “You will remain. Everyone else is free to go.”

Faith pressed her lips together. Four wasn’t a bad number. It was manageable. Even added to the nine apprehended earlier and the five who’d attacked them, it totaled eighteen. Balanced against the overall number of CIA employees, it was a small percentage.

“Grateful it’s not more,” Dr. Thomas murmured. “You ready to leave?”

“Not sure. Let me check with Honor.

“Are we dismissed?” she asked the other woman.

“Yes. Milton wants everyone out of here, including me.”

Faith rose and gathered the paper plate and drink can, intent on throwing everything away.

“I’ll get those.” Reg pried them out of her hands and carried them to a waste can at the back of the room. “Hang on, and I’ll give you a ride back to your quarters.”

“What do you want to do with our snack bag?” she asked.

He shrugged. “I’ll toss it in the car.”

She joined him in the throng pressing through the doors. Faith tried to read expressions, but gave it up for a lost cause. She didn’t understand normal human emotions that well, so she deployed kinetics and almost wished she hadn’t. A mélange of anger, sorrow, compassion, and studied neutrality flowed from the folk leaving the room.

Too bad the doc couldn’t communicate telepathically, but she didn’t want to ask the questions bumping against one another in her head out loud. Once they were outside and had drawn away from others, she murmured, “It’s harder working for the CIA than a more normal business, right?”

He turned, and his green eyes glittered in the reflection from a street light. “What are you asking? Whether agents and support staff here have difficult lives because of the work environment?”

She closed her teeth over her lower lip. “Something like that.”

“Any kind of military work is challenging. Being an agent is damned hard. It’s why so many of them remain single. The hours and the stress are real marriage killers. Why?”

Faith hesitated. Should she tell him she’d made a point of scanning the crowd as they exited?

They reached the SUV, and Dr. Thomas pulled a back door open to toss the food bag inside. He turned to look at her. “Feel like a longer run? I could accompany you back to your building and then come back for the car.”

Faith nodded. “I’d love to go for a run. It’s not that cold tonight, and there’s a killer moon up there.”

“Killer moon, eh?” The corners of his eyes crinkled with delight. “Didn’t take you long to pick up our idiomatic expressions.”

“I watched a lot of television in the compound. Internet too. It’s why I know anything at all about you guys.” She eyed the .38 cradled in his shoulder holster. “Planning to bring the gun?”

“You betcha. I don’t have your kinetic ability.”

They set off at a moderate pace. She could probably run faster than him, but that would defeat the whole purpose of spending a little more time together.

“You never did answer me,” he prodded.

“About what?”

“Why you asked about job stress and the CIA.”

Maybe because she was moving, her tongue was looser. This time, it wasn’t a struggle to reply. “I was trying to read people leaving that meeting. When I couldn’t tell much from their faces, I used kinetics.”

“And?”

He sounded fascinated, so she went on. “Their emotions were all over the map. Sad. Angry. Empathetic. Most of the people projected a mix of all three.”

“Makes sense.” He blew out a breath, and it plumed in the night air. “I saw the same dynamic over and over again in the Middle East. We were there to help a group of human beings who couldn’t help themselves. They were enslaved, starved, slaughtered, at the mercy of ruthless regimes. Some soldiers made it through by immersing themselves in hatred. Others chose compassion. They fared better.”

“Wonder what makes the difference?” she mused.

“Lots of things. How you were raised. How confident you are in your own skin. The ones who are angry and critical usually had shit childhoods.”

“You’re not that way,” she spoke up and then could’ve kicked herself. She’d do better steering this conversation away from personal territory.

“That’s right,” he said. “I did tell you I grew up in pretty crappy circumstances.” He made a shrugging motion but kept running. “Who knows why I ended up in medical school and the guy next door is doing life in prison? I did have an edge, though.”

Despite her vow to stay away from the personal, Faith couldn’t resist asking, “What was that?”

“A teacher saw something in me. Potential, maybe. He and his wife adopted me when I was throwing my life down the toilet with both hands. The first few months with them were pretty rocky, but they stuck by me, and eventually I pulled my head out of my rear end and stopped acting like a cocky little jerk.”

“Thanks for trusting me enough to tell me that.” They were nearing her building, but she didn’t want the time with the doctor to end. Could she ask if he wanted to run some more without him thinking she was nuts? Maybe he was tired. He’d had a long day.

“What’s going through that head of yours?”

“How do you know anything is?” she countered.

“You get this thoughtful look, and you draw your eyebrows together.” He stopped in a grove of trees not far from the side entrance to her building and draped an arm around her shoulders.

Faith leaned into him. She thought maybe she shouldn’t, but he felt warm and solid and reassuring.

He wrapped his other arm around her so he was facing her, and he cupped the side of her face with one calloused hand. “You’re so beautiful. Do you know that?”

She shook her head. “No, but I’m glad you think so.”

He traced the line of her mouth with his thumb. “And you have a wonderfully expressive mouth. What would you do if I kissed you?”

“I don’t know. It’s never happened before.” Her breath hitched, and sensual heat spread outward from her belly. She wrapped her arms around him, holding him close and breathing in the scents of bayberry, forests, and antiseptic.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he covered her mouth with his in the gentlest of kisses, still cradling her head with one hand. She kissed him back, savoring the feel of his mouth beneath her lips. Her nipples peaked, tingling with wanting things she had no name for. She’d explored her own body thoroughly, but no one else had ever touched her.

What would that feel like?

He tightened the arm around her back, moving it lower until it circled her waist. The press of his penis, long, hot, and swollen, prodded her belly. Her breath quickened along with his, and he licked the seam between her lips. When she opened her mouth to his exploration, he slid his tongue inside.

She sucked on it, loving the sensations cascading through her. Time slowed as he deepened their kiss, alternating his tongue with small, teasing kisses. Faith felt her body melt against his as desire spooled in the dark, secret place between her legs. Her hips developed a mind of their own, and she rocked against him.

He moved his mouth away from hers, and she tried pulling his head back toward her. Kissing was amazing, wonderful. She hadn’t had enough of it or the man in her arms.

Banked flames lit the backs of his eyes. “It’s enough for now, Faith. But you feel wonderful. I’ll look forward to seeing you tomorrow.”

“We could kiss more.” She looked away from his direct gaze. “Sorry if that wasn’t the right thing to say.”

“It’s more right than you know.” His voice had a husky catch to it. “We could, but then I’d scoop you up and bring you home with me. We’ll have time, sweetheart. I want to get to know more about you before we make love. Come on.” He let go of her and laced his fingers with hers. “I’m going to see you safely inside.”

Before we make love. He said before we make love.

Her insides turned to mush. The man she wanted felt the same. She walked by his side to the well-lit entrance. “I guess I’m going to have to get over thinking of you as Dr. Thomas,” she murmured.

“That would be nice.” He made a sound between a laugh and a snort. “I’d love to hear you say my name.”

She turned her face up, gazing at him. “Reg. Does it stand for something?”

“Reginald, but that’s way too stuffy and formal. Reg is fine. Goodnight. Try not to worry about fallout from tonight’s meeting. These things take a bit of time, but they always die down.”

Faith smiled. “See you soon…Reg.”

“That wasn’t so hard.” He kissed her lightly one more time before turning and loping off into the night.

Faith let herself into her building and started for the stairs. She still couldn’t quite believe what had happened, but she wasn’t going to ruin it by picking it apart, either.

After the attack, she’d dreaded what tomorrow at Langley would bring. Between Milton’s speech and her run across campus with Reg, hope fanned bright. Maybe she and the women had found a permanent home after all.

Please. Please let it be true.

She floated into her apartment, reliving every exquisite moment of Reg’s kisses. The feel of his mouth on hers and the scents uniquely his followed her into the shower and then into her bed.

She wanted to talk with Honor or Glory or Charity, but tomorrow would be soon enough. Tucked under the covers, she shut her eyes and ran her hands over her body pretending Reg was the one touching her. She pinched her nipples and slid a hand between her legs, rubbing her sensitive nub in hard, little circles. In her fantasy, his mouth covered a breast, suckling her, and the hand working her clit was his. The imagery shot her into a climax so shattering it stole her breath and left her wrung out but hungry for more.