Blind Faith (16 page)

theoretical, or was it? Either way, it was normal science. Except… “I’m assuming your problem with

governmental oversight is the prohibition against human testing?”

“Exactly.” Fairbanks nodded, pleasure lighting his face at finding an ally. “If someone consents in

exchange for payment, why shouldn’t we experiment? It’s for the greater good.”

That one phrase made Nate see red, and his hand curled into a fist with the desire to punch Fairbanks in

the face. Yeah, obsession ruled the man, and it was an obsession that had nothing to do with Nate or his

mission. Even so, he’d like to knock good ole Georgie out. “I’d sure like to see your research.” Not.

“You got it. But we need the perks from the senator and his home state to really get the project off the

ground. Do you have an in there?” Fairbanks asked.

“Not really.” Not unless one counted the woman Nate had made orgasm three times the previous night.

“Do you?”

“Maybe.” Lilith tapped her fingers along the back of Nate’s hand as if she couldn’t help but touch him.

“Nash’s chief of staff and I go way back. I have a dinner meeting with him tonight to talk about it. Don’t

worry, I’ll do what I need to do.”

For the first time, Nate really wanted out of DC. Away from politics, away from murder, away from

people. He needed to get Audrey to safety as soon as possible. Not only for her safety, but also for his damn

sanity.

He was finally losing it.

Chapter 12

After an exhausting day, Audrey stepped outside the building into a pounding deluge. Of course, she’d

left her umbrella in her office. This day sucked.

She turned toward the parking garage, and a strong hand banded around her arm. “What the—”

“Shhh.” Darian towed her through the rain and toward a yellow taxi parked at the curb, his hold

relentless. “We need to talk. Things are so much worse than you think.” He opened the door.

She yanked back, surprise and fear making her knees shake. A man sitting on a bench jumped up and

began to jog toward them. One of the commander’s soldiers? Why had she forgotten her umbrella? It’d

make a good weapon. Where should she go to get away from the soldier and from Darian? Back into the

building. She turned to run. “I’m not getting in the cab.”

“Yes.” In one smooth motion, Darian turned and all but shoved her into the cab. Her leg buckled, and

she cried out, her arms flailing.

He slid in behind her. “Go,” he said to the driver.

The taxi drove out into the busy street. The soldier jumped into traffic, running for the cab. He soon

disappeared from sight.

Audrey regained her equilibrium and shoved Darian. “What is wrong with you?”

He closed his eyes and sighed. “We’re going to Milly’s Bar in Georgetown. We can talk there.” He

opened his eyes, the darkness full of a plea. “Please. Trust me. This is important.”

Audrey scrambled for the other door handle. “This is crazy. I don’t know what your problem is, but

you need to take it up with the senator—”

“Shhh.” Darian wrung her back around, desperation paling his face. He nodded his head toward the taxi

driver. “It’s okay. One drink, and I’ll explain everything. It’s so much worse than we feared. Please.”

Audrey glanced up to see the taxi driver’s curious gaze in the rearview mirror.

“You okay, miss?” he asked with a thick Bostonian accent.

Audrey looked over at Darian, who seemed to be holding his breath in an impressive chest. Fear

cascaded off the big guy. “Um, yes.” She settled back into the seat and slid her bad leg into a more

comfortable position. If necessary, she could dart out into traffic and take her chances. But something in

Darian’s expression kept her in place. He’d been investigating the commander. Had he found out about the

Gray brothers? Or was it something even worse? “We’re fine.”

The driver nodded and instantly honked at a Mercedes trying to cut him off. Darian exhaled in a burst

of air and ran a hand over his wet, curling hair. “I should’ve never traded sports for politics,” he muttered.

Amen, buddy.
Audrey pressed her lips together to keep from asking any questions until they exited the

cab. What had Darian discovered? Her mind reeled. She had to get to Nate in case his cover had been

blown. “Take a deep breath,” she whispered. If Darian kept panting like that, he would pass out.

He nodded and sucked in air, his gaze darting outside the cab. He turned to frantically stare out the back

window, his hands shaking in his lap.

Audrey turned to see regular DC traffic behind them, cars darting in and out, cabbies honking, and mud

puddles splashing up. Nothing like a good rainstorm during rush hour. She studied the cars behind them,

seeing no pattern to discern a tail. The commander’s men wouldn’t leave a trail. Nausea and adrenaline

slammed simultaneously into her stomach.

Calm and cool would save the day. Winding her fingers around Darian’s beefy ones, she tugged. “How

was your day?”

He swung a wild gaze toward her. “What?”

She flexed her fingers. “Your day. How was it?” Lowering her chin, she kept his gaze. Would he

understand? Appearances would save them—probably.

He blinked. “Oh. Ah, I had a good day. You?” As he turned to look out the back window again, she

jerked his hand toward her and waited until his gaze followed suit.

“Mine was great.” She forced a smile. He had to stop looking so suspicious. If somebody was following

them, there wasn’t a thing they could do about it. But acting suspicious would get them killed.

His gaze narrowed on her, and he tilted his head. Finally, intelligence rather than terror filled his eyes.

“We should do dinner again. Soon.”

Yeah, she’d played her hand. The man now probably realized she had training beyond a lobbyist for a

senator. “I did enjoy the steak.”

“You are full of surprises.” Now he clamped her fingers with a strength far beyond hers.

He had no clue. Silence wrapped around them, broken only by the smattering of rain on the roof.

Darian’s spicy wood cologne filled the cab.
Clive Christian?
Probably. The lobbyist had money, that was

for sure. Working for a top private military organization in the United States came with a fat paycheck.

Audrey scooted forward and eyed the front seat. Dark sunglasses and a wide rain hat perched atop a wet

newspaper.

She smiled. “How much for the glasses and hat?”

The driver frowned, turning over his shoulder. “Seriously?”

“Yep.” She gestured toward Darian. “The guy has a freaky ex who scares me. I’d like a little protection

in case she’s waiting at his favorite bar.”

Cool calculation narrowed the cabbie’s gaze in the rearview mirror. “Benjamin is my middle name.”

Audrey reached for the wallet in her trench coat and counted out twenties. “Five Andrews.” She

reached over the seat and swung the hat onto her head, stuffing her thick hair up in the roominess. The

dark glasses finished the look.

Darian frowned. “You look like a 1950s movie star trying to remain not-so-anonymous.”

Audrey shrugged and tugged the brim of the hat down farther. So long as she remained difficult to

identify, she didn’t give a fig how she looked.

Darian whistled, glancing out his window. “You’ve obviously done this before.”

No. But she had a brain, and she’d keep her gaze down to avoid any cameras from businesses or ATM

machines they passed. Too bad she didn’t have any real training. In boarding school, she’d studied English,

and in college, she’d studied education, hoping to teach at preschool or the kindergarten level. Somewhere

with young kids. Then she’d fallen in love with Nate, had been blown up, and now worked in politics.

Life didn’t make any sense.

Finally, the cab rolled to a stop outside a bar in Georgetown. Audrey released Darian and stepped into

the rain, her boots splashing the wet sidewalk. Milly’s Bar sat proudly in the center of a long block of

businesses ranging from a scarf store to a specialty pet store. Without glancing at the street, Audrey steeled

her shoulders and strode toward the bar doorway, careful not to limp.

Darian’s voice echoed as he told the cabbie to keep the tip, and his hand slipped along her elbow.

“We’ll go toward the back where we can watch the door,” Darian whispered, opening the door and

escorting her between tables and along a bar lined with bright red stools.

The guy had seen too many James Bond movies.

Even so, adrenaline flooded Audrey’s system, making it hard to breathe. Danger had dropped into her

world and taken hold. Heck. She’d sent the invitation, now, hadn’t she?

“Hey, Darian,” a fiftysomething woman with long pink hair called cheerfully from behind the bar.

“Hi, Milly. Heading to the back—meeting,” Darian yelled back, waving at several folks throughout.

They ended up at a round table set against a wall decorated with football paraphernalia. A picture of

Darian in his college uniform proudly held center stage. Darian scooted a chair around so both he and

Audrey faced the door.

Milly sauntered up, a wide grin on her face. “Good to see you again. Whatcha all want?”

Darian’s gaze remained on the closed door. “The usual for me, and a—”

“Gin and tonic.” Audrey cut him off before he ordered her a Shiraz. Her disguise wouldn’t mean much

if she gave herself away through habit. “My favorite.” For good measure, she added a slight French accent

to her tone. Might as well try to match the hat and glasses.

Darian’s gaze swung to her, and his mouth dropped open.

“No prob.” Milly turned around on a sparkly pink boot and glided back toward the bar.

“Who are you?” Darian hooked Audrey’s elbow and leaned close.

Audrey pushed the glasses higher up on her nose. “You’re the one acting so weird. I’m trying to survive

here.” Without any training or experience. The French accent was probably stupid.

“You’re no ordinary operations director.” Darian frowned, wiping rain off his forehead. “How much

are you involved in this group?”

“Which group?” These days, so many groups surrounded her, it was amazing she didn’t get them

confused.

“I don’t know who to trust.” Darian shuddered.

With a hop in her step, Milly returned and deposited a glass of gin and tonic in front of Audrey and

what looked like a Greyhound in front of Darian. “Here you go, kids.” She smiled, pressing a beefy hand

on an ample hip. “It’s so nice to see you out on a date, Darian.”

Darian nodded weakly. “Thanks, Milly. Genevieve here is a sweetheart.”

Audrey bit back a smile. He’d even gone for a French name. “I like your bar,” she said, trying to lower

her voice and add the accent.

“Thanks. You’re not from around here, huh?” Curiosity quirked Milly’s lips.

“How did you know?” Audrey asked. The accent didn’t even sound authentic to her.

“Oh, I meet a lot of people. You a model?” Milly asked.

“Um, no.” Not unless she lost twenty pounds and learned how to sashay without a limp. “But you’re

very kind.”

Milly scratched her nose. “Okey dokey. You kids give a holler if you need anything else.” She hurried

over to help a boisterous group of men all wearing Armani.

Audrey kept her fingers off the glass. “Genevieve?”

“I don’t know. Sounded French.” Darian took a large gulp of his drink. Then another.

Audrey leaned toward him. “Now talk.” How much danger had Darian discovered?

“Okay.” He swallowed and set down his drink, his hand visibly trembling. “I stayed for a meeting with

the senator after you left and—” He coughed and paled as the outside door opened. “Oh no. They found

us.”

Audrey swirled her head around. Three men, all in black, all staring intently at her. Her brain fuzzed,

and the world narrowed in pinpoint sharpness. She scooted her chair and stood. “The back way. Let’s go.”

Darian stood and instantly cried out, hitting the wall. Blood spurted from his shoulder.

Audrey turned to see a silver gun held low in the first man’s hand. They were moving fast.

A woman at the bar screamed, and everyone in the place seemed to drop to the floor at once.

She grabbed Darian. “Let’s go.”

“No.” He shoved her toward the back, reaching for the table with one hand. “Run. Run now.”

“Come with me.” She tried to tug him.

“No time.” He shoved her harder, and she slammed into the far wall. Her leg bellowed.

Milly screamed and disappeared behind the wide bar. Everyone turned toward the three men, glasses

and drinks flying.

Crap. Audrey’s heart kicked into a fast gear, and she gasped for air.

“Run!” Darian yelled, charging the table into the oncoming men.

Left with no choice, Audrey turned.

And ran.

Chapter 13

Audrey hurtled through the doorway into an empty storage area, pushed through another door, and ran

as fast as her cramping leg allowed for a back door. Rain slashed into her as she stumbled outside to a

narrow alley. The stench of wet garbage assailed her, and she sucked in air. The smattering of more gunfire