Freak of Nature (5 page)

Lucas handed his pass to the burly guard. The older man’s arms were as big as Lucas’s neck.

Sam grunted and handed Lucas his ID. Lucas nodded in thanks and put his Jeep in drive and crept through the gated entry. Night had already fallen and a full moon hung high in the sky. Giving the compound an eerie glow.

Who would have thought that at only twenty he would have such a highly classified job? Certainly not his father, not that he had stayed around to see how Lucas turned out.

Pushing the negative thoughts aside, Lucas drove towards the back of the compound. He pulled into a parking spot and jumped out. Professor Adams’s stone cottage stood off in the distance with a wisp of smoke billowing from the chimney, looking for all the world like an idyllic cottage in the countryside. Very out of place, but Harrington wanted Adams to live on the compound in case any issues arose. The cottage had been Mrs. Adams idea. She said if she was going to be stuck on the god forsaken compound she might as well get her dream house. Harrington had built it to her specifics. Harrington definitely took care of his own. He had to give him that.

Lucas trudged forward across the well-manicured lawn and rang the doorbell. He just wanted the night to be over with.

Mrs. Adams opened the door with a friendly smile, her white hair falling in loose curls around her face. It was obvious the woman had been a looker in her day, but time had taken a toll, and had deeply lined her oval face and high cheekbones. Her bright blue eyes, however, still sparkled with youthfulness.

The Adams’s didn’t believe in the anti-aging treatments that IFICS had invented, but they were okay with turning a girl into half a human. People rarely made sense.

“Come in, Lucas. So glad you could join us.” She stepped aside and allowed him to pass into the cottage. He could smell fresh baked bread cooking. The aroma was mouth watering.

“You look as lovely as ever, Mrs. Adams.”

“Oh, you. Keep ‘em coming. You know I’m a sucker for compliments,” she gave him an impish grin that took years off her face.

A stone fireplace sat to the right, lit with flames. Knickknacks covered the worn wooden shelves that lined both sides. From the look of the shelves, the mantle, and end tables, Mrs. Adams collected angels and porcelain bears. A worn leather couch and two rocking chairs filled the small room. He smiled at the sight of the brightly colored rug in front of the fireplace. It reminded him of a rug his mother had made by hand many years ago. His mothers didn’t turn out quite as nice, but at least she tried. His mom always tried.

“Dinner is almost ready,” Mrs. Adams said sweetly. “I made roast. I hope that’s okay with you. You’re not vegetarian, are you? If so, I can whip something up.”

“Roast is fine. Thank you, it smells amazing.” He’d had no idea he was coming for dinner; he had thought it was just a last minute meeting with the Professor. The sound of his stomach rumbling reminded him he hadn’t eaten since lunch, so a home cooked dinner was a welcome surprise.

“Take off your jacket and join the rest of us in the sitting room.”

Lucas shrugged out of his jacket and wondered who ‘the rest of us’ were. He hoped he wasn’t being ambushed with some crazy upgrade by the professor. They were too close to make drastic changes now.

Mrs. Adams took his jacket and walked away to hang it in a nearby closet.

“Follow me.” She smiled and led him down a narrow hallway lined with black and white photographs.

He almost stumbled over his own feet when he saw Kaitlyn sitting on a floral loveseat next to the Adams’s granddaughter.

What is Kaitlyn doing here?

Kaitlyn looked up and caught his gaze. He felt like a lovesick teenager. His heart raced, and his mouth felt dry and refused to cooperate; he needed to say something, but nothing would come out. She literally took his breath away.

She sat at the edge of the loveseat holding a glass of water. The white dress she was wearing was entirely too revealing. Her long legs were pressed together and tilted to the side. He could see the coding scroll through her calves, and he had to force himself to look away. He searched the room until his eyes settled on a painting in the corner. It was black, red, and white and he had no idea what it was supposed to depict. It looked like a bunch of paint splatters to him, but something told him it was worth a fortune.

“Lucas, I’m so glad you could join us tonight,” Professor Adams said, offering a hand. “My wife has been dying to have you as a dinner guest for some time.”

“A dinner guest?” Lucas sputtered, shaking his superior’s hand. “I thought you had to see me about work?”

The elder man tutted. “My dear boy. Sometimes work needs to be set aside, and we just need to enjoy one another’s company.”

Lucas felt like he was being set up, but he had no idea why. What could that Adam’s possible want with him.

Chapter Six

W
hat is he doing here?
Tearing her eyes away from Lucas she glanced at Quess.

Kaitlyn stared blankly at the girl, but Quess just smiled innocently back. Kaitlyn had a feeling Quess knew all along. She really was good at keeping secrets.

She should have told her that Lucas was coming for dinner. Not that it would have made a difference. She was interested in seeing him outside of the clinical environment.

Taking a deep breath, Kaitlyn composed herself. She could do this. It was just dinner after all, and Lucas had no idea of her hidden desire to rip his clothes off and trail her lips up the length of his body. She felt heat rush to her face, but her system quickly regulated it.

He looked even more attractive than usual tonight. The light blue button-up matched his eyes, making them stand out even more, and it was unbuttoned at the top, revealing a white t-shirt underneath. His khaki pants hung loosely at his hips and stretched over his muscular thighs. Kaitlyn absently wondered when he had time to work out. He seemed to always be at the lab.

Lucas shifted from one foot to the other. A sign that he was uncomfortable. He seemed just as shocked to see her as she was to see him. He shoved his hands in his pockets and then pulled them out as if he was unsure what to do with his hands.

His gaze settled on her as he said, “Kaitlyn, it’s nice to see you here. I didn’t know you visited the Adams’s home.”

His rich, deep voice sent a strange feeling down her spine. It was almost as if a chill were in the air even though the fireplace ensured the room was a warm seventy-eight degrees, according to Kaitlyn’s internal thermometer.

The sensations Lucas caused within her were confusing, and she was unable to process the meaning. When she scanned her mind, it came up blank.
Yet again proof that computers don’t know everything
, she thought, slightly annoyed.

“This is the first time I have been,” Kaitlyn said. “Quess invited me for dinner.”

At least her mind and mouth were cooperating; that wasn’t always the case in the presence of Lucas. Her hands were clammy with sweat, and her stomach felt funny. She wondered if that was what Quess meant by butterflies dancing in her stomach.

“Nanny, it smells like dinner is ready,” Quess interjected, saving Kaitlyn from the awkwardness.

Mrs. Adams sniffed the air, and then leveled her gaze on her granddaughter. “Why, yes, I do believe you’re right, dear. Let’s all go to the kitchen.”

Kaitlyn rose swiftly, turning on her heel and heading in the direction of the kitchen with the rest of them close behind. The smell of roast beef, fresh bread and potatoes triggered something in Kaitlyn, but it was like a scratch she couldn’t itch. The feeling caused a tingling in her memory; so close, but not close enough. To say it was annoying would be an understatement. This sometimes happened with certain scents. She wasn’t sure what it meant and wished she could ask Lucas or Professor Adams, but that would be giving away too much.

The kitchen was rustic and well-used. There was very little wall space that wasn’t covered in pale wood cabinets, and the thin area of space above was hung with old cast iron skillets and copper pots. It was five degrees warmer in the space than the rest of the house.

“Have a seat anywhere,” Mrs. Adams declared, waving her hands towards the large oval dining room table that sat in an alcove next to the kitchen. The table was covered with bright yellow placemats, and floral napkins.

Hesitating, Kaitlyn waited until the others were seated so she wouldn’t take the wrong chair. Mr. Adams sat at the head of the table, as she expected, Lucas sat to the right of him, and Quess sat at the other end next to what would presumably be her grandmother’s seat.

Kaitlyn made her way around the table and sat across from Quess, unfolding her napkin and placing it in her lap. Like she saw Quess do. There was one seat separating her from Lucas.

He tugged at his t-shirt collar as if it were choking him. His cheeks were flushed. She wondered if it was from the heat of the fireplace.

What is he thinking?
Kaitlyn wondered. What was it that made him so uncomfortable? Quess had said he was anti-social. Maybe he was uncomfortable eating around others, but that seemed odd even to her.

Lucas cleared his throat. “Professor Adams, I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but what is the meaning of this meeting?”

Professor Adams gave a half-smile, helping himself to the pitcher of iced tea in the center of the table. “Beats the hell out of me. Ask the women of this family. I’m just as surprised as you are.” He filled his glass and then filled his wives. “The sooner you learn women rule this world, the better off you’ll be.”

Just then Mrs. Adams walked in, carrying a large plate of roast beef, the thinly sliced meat pink at the center. Her smile lit up the room. “Ain’t that the truth!”

She set the platter on the table and retreated back to the kitchen. Quess rose and hurried to help her grandmother. Soon, the table was filled with roast, potatoes, rolls, and vegetables.

The scents were wonderful, but Kaitlyn dreaded having to eat. The roast would taste no different to her than the potatoes. It was as if her taste buds had been removed, but more than likely it was a computer chip that overrode those senses. Sometimes she wished she could tear out all the sensors.

But then again, what would that leave of Kaitlyn? Would she even be able to survive without the mechanics? She really had no idea.

Quess tapped Kaitlyn on the arm. “Help yourself.”

It seemed they all watched as Kaitlyn placed a small portion of roast, potatoes, and green beans on her plate. She bypassed the rolls. That would have been too much for her to eat. Her internal encyclopedia informed her of protocols of etiquette and leaving food on one’s plate would be offensive to the host. She didn’t want to offend Mrs. Adams.

Quess reached across Kaitlyn to grab a golden roll. “Hey, Gramps, I was thinking that you should add a slang chip to Kaitlyn. Half the time she has no idea what I’m talking about.”

Kaitlyn’s eyes snapped in the direction of Professor Adams. He rubbed his chin, lost in thought. “You know that’s actually a great idea, Quess.”

Quess smiled, obviously proud of herself.

“What do you think, Lucas?” Professor Adams stared at Lucas, awaiting his response.

Lucas shrugged. “I don’t think it could hurt. If they want her to mix with the general population, it makes sense she would need to understand colloquialisms. I can work on a program tomorrow.”

Professor Adams nodded. “Very good. Thank you, Quess. I would have never thought of such a thing on my own.”

Kaitlyn watched the exchange, only somewhat interested. It was as if they were talking about a stranger and not herself. She didn’t really care if she could understand slang, as they called it. It wasn’t as if she had a say in the matter anyway. They always did what they wanted without consulting her.

At least the idea seemed to make Quess happy. The girl’s round cheeks were flushed, and her eyes shone with pride at her grandfather’s compliments.

Then Kaitlyn’s sensors alerted her to something she’d missed during the conversation. Lucas had said
the general population
. Kaitlyn took that to mean she was going to leave the compound. The thought was equally as exciting as it was terrifying.

“Professor Adams, I am curious. Where did I live before moving here?” Kaitlyn asked between bites of roast.

She was met with silence. Kaitlyn wasn’t sure if it was the question itself, or that no one had expected her to speak.

She watched as a look passed between Lucas and the professor.

“Why do you ask?” Professor Adams asked calmly, setting his fork on the table and wiping his mouth on his napkin.

“I was just wondering. Virginia does not feel like home.” Kaitlyn took a sip of water and waited for their reply.

All eyes, even Quess’s, were wide and shocked. Kaitlyn realized she had made a mistake.

“Feel, Kaitlyn?” the professor asked. “Please, explain what you mean by ‘not feeling like home.’” Professor Adams focused his attention solely on Kaitlyn.

Her machinery kicked in, and her coded neurons warned her processing center that the situation was an uneasy one. One moment of analysis and she realized why—she had used the word ‘felt.’