CHAPTER ELEVEN
Aidan O’Connor sat on the silver stool in his starched white coat, studying the latest results from the blood samples, and smiled at how things had changed for him over the past couple of years. Instead of a prison cell, he ran and controlled this incredible laboratory, creating and working on exactly what he had always dreamed of. He lifted his glasses off his slim face and held them as he stared through the clear glass window into the nursery, where dozens of babies from a few weeks old to several months lay in their cots, watched over by attentive nurses. Their cries and gurgles were no different from any other infants, but these children were unique and special.
They were his.
Throughout history, in times of war and peace, the military had carried out tests on their own all with the same edict: to create a “Kill-Proof” soldier. It wasn’t Aidan’s goal. He believed that most humans didn’t use their full potential and were capable of far more than they realized but they were lazy, which, in turn, would lead to their extinction. There were too many idiots who craved power and had more money than intelligence. Sooner or later, he believed the nuclear button would be pressed and planet Earth would be dust in the endless solar system. He believed the only way to survive was to ensure you were on the right side and that would be the strongest, ready and capable of adapting to any given situation.
He wanted to create the perfect being, ready to withstand and adapt to any change in environment or situation. Sitting back in his swivel chair, he thought back to how he came to where he was today.
He believed the key to survival lay in DNA. Those with exceptional strength and of superior intelligence—if isolated and trained—could enhance certain inherent traits which currently were left dormant, like extra-sensory perception. His experiments investigated all possible ways to create an individual with extraordinary capabilities. He also looked at editing DNA to eradicate disease and to combine it with other organisms to enhance all senses, but his subjects, mostly animals at the time, died and his research was never explored further due to his failure and loss of funding. His hypothesis was labeled inhumane and thrown out. He wanted to use subjects from birth to focus on enhancing traits by restricting the environment to ensure complete control.
After being ridiculed, he adapted.
He was a survivor. He assumed a new identity as the college professor Aidan O’Connor. At the end of a tiresome lecture one day at the college, a man approached him and his life changed direction yet again. It was that first meeting with his boss, who shared his beliefs but who opened his mind to other possibilities.
The door thudded closed in the distance and Aidan thought the last of his students had left. He was caught by surprise when an unfamiliar and deep voice spoke his name, making him stop and turn around.
“Professor O’Connor, what a pleasure. Your students are lucky to have you. I’m impressed and these days that is no easy feat,” said the rotund and suntanned man with receding hair, dressed impeccably in a dark fitted suit. By his side stood two taller and stockier severe-looking men with their arms held in front. The man lit and puffed away on a Cuban cigar. The swirl of smoke and pungent aroma floated between them. Aidan squinted and tried to put a name to the face of the man, studying his bloated face and thin white beard and noticing the striking gold signet ring on his right hand. The man oozed money and supreme confidence. He didn’t recognize him from the faculty and for the life of him, couldn’t summon a name. Nervous in the presence of this stranger, he gathered his books from the podium. His fear rose that his identity was discovered. He slipped his glasses on and studied the direct stare of the man who blew smoke right in his face.
“This is a non-smoking building.” Aidan pointed at the no-smoking sign. He did this to cover his nerves and to display his authority.
The man didn’t flinch. He continued to suck in a deep breath and smoke at his leisure, all the while silently assessing him. When he spoke this time, he used the cigar to illustrate his point.
“I didn’t think you were one for following the rules, O’Connor.”
The tone held a bite and hinted of a knowledge of him that Aidan didn’t like. Aidan stood up straight and lifted his briefcase from the table, watching each of the bulldozers on either side of the man with a deep, rich voice.
“If there is something I can help you with please, get to the point. I’m a very busy man.”
He strode away from the isolated seminar hall and exited the building, walking at a steady pace until he stood outside.
The man followed behind him. “You really need to listen to what I have to say. I have been charting your successes and failures, you know. I’m an avid fan. Your research has always fascinated me, but I’m surprised to see you in a classroom, not a laboratory. You don’t seem quite at home here for some reason. Perhaps it’s to do with the fact that this isn’t where you belong at all because you’re not who you pretend to be?”
The hair on the back of his neck rose. Aidan ground his teeth together and he counted to ten to remain calm. He did a quick sweep of the park area in front. Next door was the Andover museum, but it was a Wednesday afternoon and there was no one around. Even so, the odds were stacked against him, and it was in a public place. He took several steps to stand right in front of the man, his height overshadowing him with the intent to intimidate, and sneered. “Who are you?”
The bodyguards closed in rank and the man, who showed no fear or signs of backing down, lifted his hand to brush his cohorts away like bothersome ants. Instantly they retreated.
“The press call me Mr. Larry Stein, but to those who know me well, it’s Larry. To those who know me better, they call me Padre.”
The professor gasped and he pressed his hand to secure his glasses. The man in front of him was a billionaire. He couldn’t remember where the man fell in the list of the top ten, but he was high up. Now he realized he had seen his face on a magazine last week attending a benefit or something similar, but it was the nickname “Padre” that made him gasp. The Father was the leader of an underground and secretive worldwide organization that had roots across the world. They were called the Elusti. Mr. Stein offered his outstretched hand to Aidan.
“Let’s cut to the chase, Professor Simon Cohen.”
The man called him by his real name, which left him with no option. He was aware of the power this man yielded, and dipped his head in submission.
“Let’s walk. I want to tell you a story. One that spans centuries. I promise you at the end you will be glad we met.”
Aidan looked over his shoulders as the two hefty men stared around but followed several steps behind. Mr. Stein rattled on. At the start, Aidan fidgeted and wasn’t sure of what the man wanted. He was afraid he would be exposed, but as Mr. Stein told his story, his curiosity grew. The recounting of the tales spanned history. The roots of the organization threaded back to the beginning of time. They strolled through the small green parkland bordered with bright fuchsia azaleas and the mention of a woman’s name brought him up sharp.
“What does Ella Masters have to do with any of this?”
Mr. Stein narrowed his gaze at him, threw his cigar butt on the ground and stamped it with his polished black leather shoe. He gave a chilling smile. “Everything, my boy. She isn’t who you think she is. Hell, she isn’t even human. She is a soul-shifter. We know this because we have her brother. He works for us and he can detect his kind and others like him through a special bond that informs him of his kind’s presence. He has helped us to capture several subjects, but Ella is special. She’s wild underneath that butter-wouldn’t-melt exterior. We want her, but we want to use her to draw everyone in. She’s a magnet and ultimately, we want all her kind and others. We want their power. To harness their gifts and use them. Imagine what we could create. Does that pique your interest?”
Aidan wet his lips as his heartbeat raced. Ella was his best student and there was a flare of attraction to her. She was smart and they had commenced an unlikely friendship, but he wasn’t sure where Mr. Stein’s boundaries lay, which was odd as he wasn’t sure of his own anymore. They wanted to use Ella. To experiment and God knows what else. Was any of what Mr. Stein said true anyway? Could she be some sort of supernatural being? Not human? How did they have her brother and why would this man work with them? Aidan suspected like him, Ella’s brother had little choice.
“Yes, I’m interested.”
Either way, he knew he didn’t have an option. The way the man smiled sent shivers down his steel spine, which increased as he watched the man rub his hands in delight.
“Good. I could have added that we have evidence that you murdered the real professor Aidan O’Connor and can confirm your identity. I could also have mentioned that your license to practice or teach is rescinded, but I much prefer to take this route where we have a mutual understanding. Of course, working for me, you will be financially rewarded. You will continue to work here to keep a close eye on Ella Masters until I decide to bring her in. Plus you will have full access to my state-of-the-art laboratories at Black Hawk, which is about fifteen minutes from here. I hold one of the biggest contracts with DARPA. Do you know who they are?”
And there it was—Mr. Stein knew everything about him.
“Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency—of course I know who they are. They have a specific agenda to create technology purely for the military.”
Mr. Stein started to walk back toward the parking lot as a black limousine pulled up at the curb.
“How did you know about the professor?”
Mr. Stein turned around, his hands behind his back, and he nodded. “Like I said, I have been watching you for some time. That’s all it takes. Time. You’re an impatient man, Mr. Cohen, and impatient men make mistakes. I have Aidan O’Connor’s corpse, along with enough forensic evidence to put you away for the rest of your life. Now, I happen to believe that would be a shame, don’t you?”
The professor swallowed down his fear of the man and attempted to reassert some sensation of being in control. He knew he hadn’t been followed and that he had been meticulous in planning the murder and subsequent burial. “What if I call your bluff?”
Mr. Stein took a step closer; this time his face was absent of any smile and he dug inside his left pocket to pull out a cross and chain that Aidan recognized straightaway.
Shit! The man he had murdered had worn that blasted piece of jewelry the day he had burned his sorry ass and buried him deep in the forest. Sweat trickled down between his shoulder blades and his heart pounded.
“A common enough necklace, but I see from your face you know who this belonged to. So, my final question is, do we have a deal?”
Aidan nodded. He knew he was signing up with the devil, even if he didn’t specifically know what that would entail. It was obvious this man had no morals or respect for life other than his own—plus, he had enough money and power that he could do exactly what he wanted. A tidal wave of jealousy and admiration swept over him.
“Yes, Padre.”
Mr. Stein gave a curt nod and placed his right hand forward, clenching it so his signet ring sat in front. Aidan grabbed the man’s hand and kissed the ring, sealing his fate there and then. He knew from that moment on he belonged to this man, body and soul. He would have no choice but to do his bidding or die.
“Professor Cohen, subject 196 won’t stop crying. I have tried everything. Shall I run another batch of blood tests? Professor?” The brunette in blue scrubs held a wriggling and crying infant.
Hearing his real name still caught him. He had acquired Professor O’Connor’s identity and assumed it flawlessly until the incident with Ella in which he had set her up to take the fall for his supposed murder. It was a deliberate and controlled intervention to insert a tag while she was unconscious. It was a way to monitor and locate her always. She had been under constant observation.
“Sorry, I was miles away.” He studied the pale baby with a thick thatch of blond hair and striking blue eyes, just like his mother’s. “Yes, but first let me hold him. You can take the blood from his foot but make it quick.”
The nurse handed over the crying baby and he held the bundle close to his chest. At one time, he fancied a different sort of relationship with Ella Masters. But once he learned her history, his interest was for scientific purposes only. He smiled down at the squirming infant and stroked the soft, plump cheeks.
“What your mother wouldn’t give to have you in her arms. But that isn’t going to happen, is it?”
Pity. Ella was beautiful, but the supposed inherent magic didn’t reveal itself. She died. He watched as she lay on the operating table as the monitor showed her heart stop. No, she wasn’t the one they were searching for. Mr. Stein was wrong about that.
The short nurse returned with gloves on her hands and a small lancet, which she stabbed into the baby’s heel. A loud scream echoed around the laboratory. The nurse collected the blood into the small vial and placed it into a plastic bag.
The professor swayed the baby in his arms, but stopped as his mobile phone vibrated in his pocket. “Take him. I need to take this call.”
The woman removed the baby and walked away.
He lifted his phone and watched as the nurse left the room, closing the door behind her.
“You need to pay attention to the news, professor. I’ve had to clear up your mess yet again. Dr. Adams is dead, but Ella Masters is very much alive and well. I don’t tolerate mistakes, Professor. Correct this one immediately. You will not get another chance.”
The phone clicked off. The professor stared back at the baby, who was now back inside the nursery, still crying for its mother. She was alive but how? That was impossible—she had lost too much blood. Her heart stopped. They had dumped her and left her for dead. The realization and extent of what he was doing should make him feel some remorse. Instead, he opened his mouth and he jumped up out of his chair.
She was alive!
She was the key after all.
****
The staff at the hospital agreed to let Ella stay and she camped at Marcus’s bedside, pouring her energy into his body to aid his recovery. As she lay her hands on his warm skin, she sensed his body working to repair and heal the injuries, hence his deep sleep. A couple of times, his eyes opened but as soon as they did, they snapped shut. Between those moments, she rested her head on the bed and drifted away, hearing the onslaught of a baby’s cries. Unable to settle, she wandered the now quiet hallways in the hospital. She stopped when she realized she wasn’t sure which ward she was on and spied the babies’ nursery. She had wandered away from the surgical ward and hadn’t noticed. Turning to head back, she paused and glanced back at the row of plastic cots and took a step forward.
A nurse in blue scrubs with a hospital badge met her. “You shouldn’t be here. In fact, how did you get access to this department?”
Ella looked back and noticed the locked double doors behind her and didn’t know how to answer. “He’s mine. At least, he’s mine until the children services arrive in the morning. His mother took her own life—”
Without saying anything more, the nurse beckoned her forward.
“I heard—how tragic. Look, this is against protocol but we’re short of staff tonight and he’s underweight. Would you like to feed him?”
Ella couldn’t explain how her heart inflated at the nurse’s offer. But her damn hormones and tears surged to the front, stealing her words, and she nodded. Perhaps the kind nurse sensed she was no threat and took pity. She showed Ella a seat and collected a warm bottle of formula. After a quick demonstration, Ella sat in a rocker and fed the baby, who suckled hungrily at the teat. Ella remained for a full hour, changing the baby’s diaper and burping him before settling the infant down to sleep. She was about to leave and return to see Marcus when the nurse came over and touched her arm.
“Look, I have checked with my manager and if you would agree, I can bring the cot up to your room. You can continue to care for the baby until the morning staff arrive. You brought the baby in and have relinquished claim. I trust you and as you can see, we’re hectic tonight. You would be doing us a favor.”
Ella didn’t have to think twice; she nodded and glanced back at the sleeping baby.
“I will follow you down and check in with the nurses on the ward your husband is on.”
She walked past the rooms; each one was occupied with patients—some sleeping, some restless—and spirits of the dead floated. The smell of strong antiseptic and pine wafted around her and brought her back to the memory of Josephine. How would she break the news to Marcus?
He will need you, Ella. Be strong!
Hearing Josephine’s voice swirl around her did little to comfort her mixed bag of emotions. She nodded at the nurse and walked into the private room where Marcus slept. She swept her gaze over his sleeping form, taking in his silky midnight-blue hair and touching his broad and muscular shoulders. His dark, thick beard enhanced his devilish and swarthy good looks, but she longed for his warm brown eyes to open. She studied his full bottom lip. She needed them on hers and his touch everywhere.
Unable to restrain herself, she leaned over his bandaged torso and pressed her lips to his soft ones and moaned. Her heartbeat fluttered at the contact and the heart monitor spiked in response. She smiled. Even asleep, she affected him. It was good to know. She brushed her thumb over the yellow bruise that highlighted his high cheekbone and the injury shrunk further in size. Unable to deny the weariness, she flopped into the chair positioned next to the bed and tried to keep her eyes open. But the lids grew heavy as a rich voice filtered inside her head.
Sleep, Ella. You need rest, the same as me.
Ella bolted awake and flicked her glance at the still, large frame of Marcus. His breathing was steady and even. His eyes remained closed. A quick look at the machine showed his heart rate and blood pressure were all normal, but she heard him speak as clear as day. She waited, her beating heart charging along, waiting for more as she pressed her lips together. The seconds ticked by but nothing else was forthcoming. She settled back into the hospital recliner, closing her eyes for a second, only meaning to let them rest for a while, but fatigue caught up and she slept.
A light prod on her arm brought her awake.
“I didn’t want to wake you, but I need to check you’re okay to look after the baby. I can always take him back.”
Ella sat up straighter and smiled at the attractive nurse with her fresh young features and hair tied back in a sweeping ponytail. The clock showed it to be one o’clock. She had only rested for thirty minutes but she would hold this baby all night if she could.
“No, thank you. I can manage. It’s only for a few more hours,” she said far too quickly and the nurse hesitated.
“I know you’re busy and he’s tiny,” she said.
The nurse looked down at the restless infant and lifted him from the cot. She handed the wrapped little boy over toward Ella, who welcomed the baby with open arms. A fresh ache stabbed her chest, but it gave her comfort to help this little one who had lost his own mother. She nodded at the nurse, who backed away and spoke with the ward nurse at the door. Ella inhaled the fresh smell of baby lotion and smiled down at the beautiful boy with a thick head of dark hair. She smoothed a finger over his round cheek and lifted the warm bottle at the correct angle that the nurse had shown her and inserted it into the eager mouth. The sucking sound the baby made was such a delight to hear and she shook her grief away.
After about twenty minutes and with the baby asleep in her arms, she gently lifted herself to stand and placed the tiny baby back in the cot. Returning to her seat, an awareness of intense pressure on her neck made her turn. She caught Marcus glaring at her.
His face held a serious, mask-like expression. “What the hell are you doing?”
The raw and hoarse voice that came from his mouth shook her to the core. Was he angry at her presence or because the baby was there? She swallowed and looked back at the sleeping infant.
“It’s the baby from the compound, from the mission you were on. He needed feeding and I offered.” She gripped the bed sheets.
There were so many things to talk about and yet his eyes remained glued to the cot next to her as he eased his position.
“Let me call the nurse and we can lift you up?”
Marcus grimaced and touched his chest as he sat forward. “No. I have suffered worse. I didn’t mean the baby, Ella, although I would have thought it better being cared for by a nurse.”
His sharp words stung and she flinched at the innuendo that she wasn’t capable of looking after something so small and fragile. Tears bubbled but she froze her out-of-control emotions and bit back.
“I am perfectly capable of feeding a baby.” She stared at the wall, refusing to let his first words after his injures be so acid and hurtful.
“Christ, Ella, I didn’t mean it that way. Look, you need to rest the same as I do, that’s all. You’ve been through enough. I don’t want you getting more hurt, that’s all.”
He slid back to sleep and the nurse came to collect the baby. When he next woke, his face crumpled in pain. She pressed her hand to his leg and saw instant relief wash over his cheeks.
“Is that better?” She frowned. Earlier she had heard him talk to her. Did he remember that?
“Yes, thank you. I am feeling—much better now,” he said, as if confused himself.
At that moment, the long plastic tube that had been inserted into his lung slipped to the ground. Ella gasped and pressed the buzzer for the nurse, who rushed inside. Marcus sat there unaffected, but the panic on the nurse’s face was evident as she quickly assessed her patient and checked his vitals. She kept an eye on his breathing, which looked normal, and removed the bandage from around his torso.
“Well, I have heard that the drain can fall out, which is why we insert a stitch to secure it in place. However, not only has the tube fallen out but the hole has closed completely. The skin barely looks as if there was an incision at all. That’s remarkable. We will need to perform an x-ray but from your color and breathing, it all looks normal to me. The body is amazing.”
The nurse ran her hand over his ribs, studying the bruises which had decreased in size too, and she flicked her gaze back at Ella. Her cheeks puffed a bright pink and Ella knew she was puzzled by his progress. An hour later, after the x-ray confirmed that his lung was fully inflated, Marcus sat up in bed looking unfazed by his beating; even the ribs were almost healed. He could even open his black eye.
“Well, you have an extremely strong physique and immune system, Mr. Drayton,” the doctor said. “I expected you to stay for at least another twenty-four hours but I can understand your desire to return home.”
The doctor cast a glance in Ella’s direction. A heat crept into her cheeks as Marcus nodded and smiled, resting his attention on her. The doctor replaced the charts and walked to the door. “Just take it easy on him, Mrs. Drayton.”
Marcus smiled and she nodded at the doctor as he disappeared outside. Nothing in their life together was easy. She wanted to find the right time to tell Marcus about Josephine, but thought it better to wait until they were home. She approached the bed and sat close to his upper body, sniffing the air, which smelled of him. All male and totally Marcus. His dark silky eyes grew blacker than coal and he grabbed her hand.
“We need to talk,” he said, absentmindedly rubbing her skin, which sent sparks shooting from the base of her tummy right to her core. She nodded and lowered her head.
“I need to go—” She couldn’t finish the words she wanted to say.
Marcus brushed his hand over her cheek and lifted her chin, running his thumb over her lower lip. “Go. The nurse told me child care services are on their way. Go say good-bye.”
She took several steps to the door and hesitated. Ava faced her with her blood-red lips and matching claws. Dressed like a socialite made up to perfection. Ella stared at her loose jogging bottoms and pale, stained, pink T-shirt, feeling grossly out of her league. As Ella looked at the elegant and sexy woman, her wide smug smile said it all. Ella couldn’t help but feel inferior. It was crazy. She glanced back at her husband to see his response but as always, the shutters were up and his face, stoic, belayed any emotion.
Jake pushed past the woman, nudging her shoulder and barely acknowledging her presence despite obviously having brought her to the hospital. He leaned into Ella and gave her a tight hug. What was with all the tender touching?
“I won’t be long,” she said.
She walked out of the room and dashed down to the nursery, keeping her mind occupied on what she needed to say to Marcus later. Maybe the time for words should come after they shared a night together. Maybe it would be easier for them both. She rubbed the back of her neck to relieve some of the tension there. Hearing the cries of the newborns, she nodded at the staff and carried on toward the cot that held the baby. She lifted the glorious bundle of life that smelled wonderful to her and cradled him in her arms. She watched his tiny finger curl around hers and move, absorbing all his delicate features and aware of the steady beat of his heart. All the while, she was aware of another strong, healthy cry that continued to haunt her and drown out all other sounds. A cry that pleaded with her to be heard. Unable to hold on any longer, Ella placed him down and kissed his forehead. She left without glancing back and raced back to Marcus. Glancing at her watch, she noted she had been no more than twenty minutes and yet as she approached the room, shouts rippled into the corridor.
“How? She can’t be. Christ, she was only having tests. Ella would have told me straightaway. She would have known I would want to know.”
Ella stood at the door, freezing in her steps. Ice filled her veins, including her heart, as she took in Marcus’s wide eyes and raised eyebrows. His lips now pressed into a firm line as if cemented together for fear of what would be released. She glanced at Ava, who smiled at her shamelessly and without regard for what had happened.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize she hadn’t told you. I assumed she had. I’m very sorry.” Ava clasped Marcus’s hand, and Ella noted she didn’t use her name once.
Jake reached the door and walked beside her as she entered, watching the vamp. The vibes she caught from Jake told her he was on her side. “Ella wanted to wait until you were better.”
Ella patted his arm to acknowledge his help, but knew it wasn’t going to make this conversation any easier. She should have told him straightaway. She had misjudged the situation.
“Get out, both of you. Now,” he growled. Marcus swung his long muscular legs over the edge of the bed and grabbed his buttoned Levi’s. He shoved his legs into them. She noted the ropey muscles of his thighs and the fact his injury had healed. Her eyes wandered over his exposed sculptured chest with a light dusting of dark hair; she lifted her head and bit the side of her mouth. His jet-black eyes rested upon hers.
“I’m sorry, Marcus. I wanted you to be completely healed before I told you about Josephine. The doctors said she had a massive heart attack while she was having the scan. Despite doing all they could to restart her heart, they couldn’t. I’m so very sorry.”
Marcus stood with his jeans on and stalked toward her until they were a hairbreadth apart. Marcus inhaled a breath and his mysterious eyes reached deep inside her, as if attempting to read her thoughts, and she dropped her lashes. Realizing she had been staring and drooling over his beautiful body for far too long, she turned away.
“I don’t know if now is the right time, but she came to me, Marcus. I stood there in the corridor. I was waiting and the exam seemed to take forever. Josephine appeared out of nowhere. At the time, I wouldn’t accept what was staring me in the face. She wanted me to tell you that she loved you very much—”
Marcus didn’t move an inch. “Go on, I want to hear it all.” His voice sounded hoarse and dry.
She twisted her fingers and let it all out. “Josephine said it was her time. Some of her words were riddles—she even spoke about our baby. Steel arranged the autopsy and the results only confirmed what they suspected. There was nothing suspicious. We have arranged a small service for Josephine tomorrow. They couldn’t delay it any longer. I’m sorry.”
She stared through the clear glass window, watching the staff scurry around on the busy ward, all the while her heart galloped as her awareness of Marcus burned stronger inside and she clenched her hands. Now wasn’t the time.
“I can’t deal with all this right now. Christ.”
Ella nodded as he raked his hand back through his hair and his nostrils flared. She studied his knitted brows and deep frown as he shook his head. She wanted to reach out and touch him but his brusque manner and stern features halted her. Ella folded her arms and she turned toward the door.
“Look at me, Ella. I know the cycle of the moon and its effect on you. I can smell your arousal from here.”
His words instantly made her cheeks burn. Heat coursed through her veins, making her limbs mushy and limp. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears. She lifted her eyes to meet his and saw heated desire shining in his coal-like eyes. Her body rippled with frantic need, but resting her gaze on his face, she saw no softness. His jaw lay clenched and his nostrils flared. His dark-chocolate eyes zeroed in on hers and he bent in the curve of her neck.
“I need you.”