Abandoned (30 page)

As the madman had held her neck, she’d kept her gaze locked on Daniel, knowing she would never see him again and willing him to remain strong.

Instead, back up troops arrived and the tables had been turned. She was still in shock, even the next morning.

Daniel eased his hands down her body and hauled her on top of him. He kissed her gently before he spoke again. “I have to return to Seattle.”

She swallowed and nodded. “I know.”

“Jerard would like me to leave you here under the protection of NAR with everyone else.”

She nodded again.

“I can’t do it.”

She exhaled.

“I love you.” He threaded his fingers through her hair and held her head in a firm grip.

“I love you too.” A tear escaped her eye, unbidden.

“I would never be able to concentrate on my job if I had to worry about your safety halfway across the country. You’ll go back to Seattle with me. Okay?”

She inhaled sharply. “Thank God.”

“NAR is figuring out another safe place to hide you, either on base or nearby. You’ll be safer with me.”

Thank God
, she repeated in her head. If she’d been left behind as she expected, she wasn’t sure how her sanity would hold out.

Daniel stared at her and opened his mouth to speak. “There’s more.”

“Lord, what else?”

“When the twelve of you were initially rescued, your blood work was sent to a lab for further testing. Apparently it wasn’t a coincidence that half of you had GPS chips. Those of you with tracking devices have a different genetic makeup than the others.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“We don’t know for sure. But I’m betting it isn’t a coincidence. The Romulus wants you for a reason. And they didn’t want to misplace you, either.”

“You think it has something to do with those giant mutated wolves?” She shivered to consider the possibilities.

Daniel nodded, his face serious. “I do. But whatever they intended to do with you, they will never get the chance now. No one is going to snatch you again. I’ll make sure of it.” He pulled her tighter into his embrace. “I don’t know jack about genetics, but whatever the fuck the Alu element is, apparently yours is distinct.”

Allison jerked from his embrace and bolted to a sitting position. She stared down at him, shaking. Her mind grasped at what he’d just said.

“What, baby?” He touched her arm.

“Did you say, Alu element?”

“Yes. But I was just repeating what Jerard learned. I can’t tell you what it is.”

“I’ve heard that before.”

Now Daniel stiffened, his grip on her arm hardening. “Where? When?”

“I don’t know, but at some point in moments of lucidity at that strange facility they took me for testing, I heard them discussing that. Something about genomes and the Alu element. I never could have come up with it on my own…but now that you say it, I remember.”

“Jesus.” He pulled her back down against his chest. “That’s good, baby. Don’t worry. We’ll figure it out.”

“What if there’s more I can’t remember?” She spoke against his firm pecs.

“I’m sure there’s plenty. But don’t stress, our professionals are on it. At this point, whatever you could remember would be so loaded with medical terminology, it would be a jumble. Our guys will figure it out.”

They lay in silence for a few minutes. Allison willed her heart rate to slow. It made her cringe to think she’d been intended for some genetic research. Or had already been used for it. Either way, she hated the notion.

Blocking visions of the past year from her mind, she concentrated on her mate beneath her.

Daniel lifted her face, kissed her soundly, and then shocked her by rolling her onto her back and nestling himself between her legs. “We have to leave soon,” he muttered.

She could hear him adding to that sentence, but not the words. While he gave her the details of their departure, he lowered his hand and lifted his body to stroke through her folds. She instantly needed him. Whatever he was rambling on about became white noise in the background as her body readied itself for his cock. All she cared about right then was escaping reality in his embrace.

He chuckled and she let her gaze land on his. “Are you listening?” He pressed two fingers into her.

She shook her head and arched her neck.

“Good. Then I’m doing my job.”

The next thing she knew, he had thrust into her to the hilt.
Home
. That was her only thought. It didn’t matter where they went or how many places she hid. When he was with her, she would be home.

Becca Jameson lives in Atlanta, GA, with her husband and two kids. After years of editing, she is now a full-time author. With over 25 best-selling books written, she has dabbled in a variety of genres, ranging from paranormal to contemporary to BDSM. She loves chatting with fans, so feel free to contact her through email, Facebook, or her website.

…where Alphas dominate…

http://www.beccajameson.com

Martin pulled up outside 20459 Wild Griffin Drive and parked. He ran his hand through his hair, straightened his tie, and checked to see if anything was stuck in his teeth.

Martin looked closer at the house. Nice house, nice neighborhood. Two story brick, detached garage, probably about three thousand square feet. Not one of the richest subdivisions in Cinco, but a nice one nonetheless. The yard was mowed and the front garden free of weeds. There was even one of those little flags people loved to hang from their houses. This one had a pumpkin and a cute black cat on it, in preparation for Halloween at the end of the month.

In his mind, he calculated the price per foot of the house. Not that he could afford it on his detective’s salary. His house—one story, brick, three bedrooms, two baths, two-car garage, just less than two thousand square feet—was on the north side of the I-10, in a very modest, blue-collar neighborhood. He didn’t need more room, and after all it was just him. He’d bought it about five years ago, when he thought Bethany would marry him. She decided the investment manager she was fooling around with on the side was a better catch than a cop, and she dumped Martin the week after he closed on the house.

His best friend Jimmy, a fellow detective, called it the luck of the Irish, told him he was lucky he found out about her cheating before he married her, instead of the Old-Fashioned Way.

“You know,” Jimmy remarked, “you come home to Your House unexpectedly, and find Your Wife doing the nasty with some guy in Your Bed.”

He’d dodged the bullet on that one. If she cheated on him while they were engaged, she would cheat when they were married. However, at the time it sure hadn’t felt like being lucky; it felt like having his guts dug out with a dull spoon.

Eventually, he’d admitted to Jimmy he didn’t always pick the right woman.

Jimmy had rolled his eyes and said, “Not always? How about never. My friend, you couldn’t pick a good woman if your life depended on it.”

Martin’s solution had been just to stop looking for a woman. Easier that way. Lonelier, but easier. So he’d lost Bethany. She kept the ring, and he kept the house. It was a nice house. Nicer than the girl.

Glancing at the white Toyota Camry station wagon parked in the driveway, Martin was surprised. In this neighborhood, he’d expected to see the obligatory SUV parked there, or at least a minivan. After all, Katy seemed to be the home of the oversize vehicle and the soccer mom.

The Camry was pulled far down the driveway, close to the garage near the back door. It probably meant the wife was home. He really wished she had been gone so he could have put this off just a little longer. This was one part of his job he really hated, and it happened too damn often.

Martin got out of the car and headed up the walk to the front door. He stepped up on the porch and rang the bell. The sound of kids came through the mahogany-stained wooden front door. A large oval of etched and frosted leaded glass window let in light, but wasn’t clear enough to see through. As two kids raced down the hall, he could make out their shapes and their red heads.

The boy got there first, opened the door, took one look at the tall man standing there, and then yelled over his shoulder, “Mom! Someone is at the door!”

The little girl arrived and put her hands on her hips.

“Matthew Jacob Reynolds,” she fussed at him. “You
know
you are
not
supposed to open the door unless you know who it is.” She turned to yell over her shoulder. “Mom! Matthew opened the door to a stranger!”

Martin suppressed a smile as the kids argued, oblivious to the fact that if he had meant harm he would have been in the house before they knew what was happening.

The smile fell from his lips as saw the woman walking toward him, wiping her hands on a towel. She was probably only five foot five, with long, dark red hair. Her green eyes took him in. There were dark circles under them, but she smiled at him. Her jeans hugged the round curve of her hips, and her tank top dipped enough to show just the smallest amount of cleavage. Martin felt his mouth go dry as his body reacted to her.

Anne Reynolds came down the hall and suppressed a smile. She stopped an arm’s length from him and spoke to the kids.

“Matt, Caroline, go back to the den, please.” They looked disappointed for a moment, and then the race was back on to see who could reach the den first.

Anne stood in the door and looked up into Martin’s face as if searching for something in his eyes. He hoped what he felt wasn’t being reflected in them.

“Mrs. Reynolds?” he began the official notification. “Is your husband Jacob Reynolds?”

Her eyes flickered for a moment to the back of the house. “Yes, I’m Anne Reynolds, Jake’s wife.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Jake’s dead, isn’t he?”

Martin studied her troubled face. Reading faces had meant the difference between life and death more than one time for him.

“Yes, ma’am.” He spoke softly. “May I come in? I’m Detective Martin O’Connell, with the Harris County Sheriff’s office.” He showed her his badge and ID, and she looked at it for a few moments.

Anne nodded, stood to the side and let him pass, and then she closed the door. He followed her to the back of the house where the kitchen and den were located. Signaling him to wait, she picked up the phone from the kitchen counter.

“Connie, I need to send the kids to you for a while.” She listened as Connie answered. “I’ll call you when you can send them back. No, Jake isn’t home, but it’s about him. Thanks.” She hung up, put the phone back on the counter, walked over to the den, and shut off the television using the remote.

“Hey, kids.” Her voice sounded steady. “I need you to go see Miss Connie. She has a treat she wants to share with you.”

The kids got up and raced back down the hall and out the front door. As the door shut, Anne sunk onto one of the couches in the den. Martin sat next to her.

“Was it a traffic accident?” She searched his face. She clasped her hands together as if to keep them from fidgeting.

He cleared his throat. “Ma’am, your husband was found dead this afternoon, in a room at the Katy Inn. He’d been shot.” He paused to let this sink in.

Anne sat and stared at him as if she didn’t understand his words.

“Ma’am, did you understand me?” Martin asked, concern showing in his voice.

“Yes. The woman he picked up last night killed him.” It was a statement, not a question. Her voice was flat and lifeless as she stared at her now-still hands.

Martin looked at her.
There is more going on in this house than I’d imagined. Maybe the wife did do it.

“You knew he was at the hotel last night?” He leaned back to get a better look at her. He’d been sitting too close.

Anne looked up and shook her head. “No, I just assumed when he didn’t come home last night he was with someone. But I didn’t know where.”

“You knew your husband was with someone at a motel last night?”

“Jake’s has been cheating on me for over a year. About three months ago, he started to spend the night out.” Her body sagged against the couch.

“Have you ever heard the name Kathy Grayson before?” He read the name off his phone.

“No, he never told me their names, and he rarely saw any of the girls a second time.” She paused and turned incredibly sad eyes to him. “Was she pretty?” she whispered.

Martin answered before he thought about it. “Not as beautiful as you.” He blushed and looked over her head
. Damn. I shouldn’t have said that.

Anne looked up, gratitude on her face. He attempted to regain his professionalism.

“How do you know about his girlfriends?”

Anne paused. “Jake told me about all his women. He enjoyed telling me.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “He wanted to hurt me, you see. He hated me. So he’d compare them to me and tell me why they were so much better than…” She stopped and swallowed, as if unable to continue.

Martin couldn’t believe his ears. The sick bastard must have been nuts.
If she were my woman
—damn, where did that come from?

He cleared his throat. “So he didn’t tell you their names?”

“No, he didn’t care about names. He only cared about humiliating me. So he would pick up a different girl, have sex with her, and then tell me how she was better. Pretty sick, huh?” She tried to smile, but her eyes refused the attempt, and she broke eye contact.

“Mrs. Reynolds,” he started.

“Call me Anne, please.”

“Anne, your husband was found dead along with the girl he was with last night. They were
both
shot to death.” He watched for her reaction.

“She’s dead too?” She sounded puzzled. “Was it a robbery?”

“There doesn’t seem to be anything taken from either victim.”