“Why did you lock the door?”
She stood up and flushed the toilet to cover her lie. Oh, God, she was lying to him. “Habit.”
She turned the water on again, splashing her face and drying it before opening the door.
Will’s face was pale and tight. “You need to tell me what’s going on.”
“I had to go to the bathroom. Haven’t you heard that pregnant women have to go to the bathroom a lot?”
He shook his head. “I thought that was later in pregnancy. When the baby is sitting on top of the bladder.”
She pushed him out of the doorway and shoved past him. “Goddamn it, Will. Do you fucking know everything?”
He turned to watch her. “Apparently, not everything.”
She wanted to cry. She wanted to scream. But she couldn’t do either under his watchful eyes. The walls were closing in around her. She needed fresh air. She had worn a tank top and panties to bed. She snatched her skirt off a chair and stepped into it.
“What are you doing?”
“I need some air. I’m going for a walk.” She sat on the edge of the bed and shoved her feet into her shoes.
“Okay,” Will picked up his jeans. “Give me a second.”
“I don’t need a fucking babysitter! I can go outside by myself!” she shouted.
His eyes widened in alarm. “Okay. Calm down before you wake people up. If you want to go out, I’ll go with you. It’s the middle of the night. It’s not safe.”
Emma pulled her gun out of the duffle bag and pulled back the slide. “I’m safe now. Don’t follow me.” She opened the door and walked into the still night, the air so humid she could slice it like a stick of butter. She waited outside the door, expecting Will to follow her anyway but a full minute later she was still alone. Either he respected her request or took it as an order.
She’d take either one.
The motel sat off a divided four-lane highway that didn’t see much traffic at two in the morning. One of the many perks of their location. Emma had chosen many a motel like this herself while on the run with Jake.
Jake
.
Her eyes welled with scalding tears. Three fucking weeks and nothing. She swiped her cheek with the back of her left hand as she walked behind the motel toward an empty, cracked concrete pool on the back edge of the parking lot. Dilapidated pool furniture scattered along the edge. Long shadows covered the asphalt, reaching to the edge of the fence. She had no destination in mind but walking along the highway seemed foolish even in her state.
“Taking a midnight stroll?”
Raphael sat in a rusted pool chair, leaning an arm on the flimsy frame. He wore gray dress pants and a long-sleeved button-down shirt, open at the collar. His black hair was slightly ruffled, adding to his mysterious, exotic look.
She thrust out her arm, pointing the gun at him with her shaking hand. “How did you find me?” she hissed.
He held up his hands in mock surrender. “Calm down, Emma,” he chuckled. “No need to shoot. You have nothing to fear from me. I helped you escape, remember?”
She shook her head, still muddled from her dream. He might have helped her, but there was no denying he stalked her.
Raphael settled back in the chair with a Cheshire grin and crossed his arms over his chest. “Really, you weren’t that difficult to find. I expected a little more originality out of you or your boyfriend.”
She glared, still aiming the gun at his chest.
“What happened to set you on edge? You and your boyfriend have a lover’s quarrel?”
“Will. His name is
Will
. Please stop belittling him.” She kept the weapon trained on him as she approached, glancing at the padlocked chain-link gate. “How’d you get in there?”
He shrugged. “We have more important things to discuss.”
His eyes locked with hers as she stopped next to the six-foot barrier. Her resolution had begun to dissolve.
“Why are you so nervous?” His words were like wine, rich and warm, melting her insides.
Her gun had lowered. She jerked it up higher. “Why
wouldn’t
I be nervous?”
“Where is
Will
?”
“None of your business.”
His eyes narrowed. “Now that’s where you’re wrong.” His face relaxed and he smiled. “How’s your training going?”
“What training?”
“Now, Emma. Don’t be coy. We both know you’ve been practicing.”
He was too presumptuous. She stood straighter and thrust out her chin. “Will thinks it’s too dangerous. He’s concerned it will kill me and doesn’t want me to try it.” It was all entirely true.
Raphael rose from the chair and stood next to the chained fence quicker than Emma thought humanly possible. His hand threaded the link, his eyes piercing hers. “You haven’t been practicing?” he asked in a guttural voice.
What did he care if she learned her powers? What did he possibly have to gain from it? Her dream rushed into her head and she pushed it to the background.
Raphael’s eyes lit up.
“You’ve dreamed of me?” he asked in a whisper.
Her eyes widened. She shook her head, backing up. “No…”
“Emma.” His words were like a prayer of reverence.
Her body reacted, relaxing. The gun lowered.
His eyes stayed locked on hers and she felt hypnotized, sucked into those dark pools. “Emma, my love, you need to practice. You need to learn to defend yourself like you did in the woods. That was good. Very good.”
She walked toward him, drawn to him against all reason.
His fingers lifted, reaching for her. Without thinking, she lifted her hand to the fence and he laced his fingers with hers, the metal cold against her palm. Her hand tingled with the contact, drawing her breath.
“You feel it too, don’t you? You’re close.” His eyes glittered with excitement. “But you need to practice. You’re in grave danger and you must learn to defend yourself. You can’t count on him to protect you.”
The need to please him washed through her and she nodded.
“Good,” he murmured, staring into her eyes. “You must go back to him now. He’s looking for you.” Raphael released her hand.
Disappointment filled her when he dropped contact.
“Emma!” Will called in a hushed tone across the parking lot.
His voice brought back her guilt, which was the reason she had rushed from the room in the first place. She turned in his direction, considering what to say, how to explain Raphael’s presence. She turned back to warn Raphael to keep quiet, but he was gone.
Her heart pounded. Had she imagined him being there? Hallucinated it? She raised a hand to her head. Maybe she was losing touch with reality.
“Emma.” Will’s voice was louder and more insistent and she knew she had to answer him. If nothing else it was unfair to worry him. He hadn’t done anything wrong, only loved her and tried to take care of her and how did she repay him?
He deserved better.
“I’m here,” she called out softly, her voice carrying across the quiet parking lot. She walked in his direction, hoping to intercept him.
He rounded the corner, a shotgun in his hand and relief on his face. “Thank God. You scared me.”
She pointed her gun at the ground as she walked toward him, hoping he didn’t see her hand shake. “I’m sorry. I just needed some air.”
When he reached her, he pulled her into a hug. “Are you okay? Really?”
She leaned into his chest. “Yes, I’m sorry. I’m not used to someone babying me. I just felt a bit smothered. It was stupid to walk out and I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, let’s just go back inside. I’ve got a really bad feeling out here.”
Emma looked back to the unoccupied pool area. Will was more perceptive than she gave him credit for.
***
Will worried about Emma even after she finally fell asleep. He knew pregnant women needed a lot of sleep and he seriously doubted Emma got enough, especially with the nightmares. He had tried again to coax her into telling him the dream, but she refused, saying she didn’t remember.
He didn’t believe her. She was lying, which in itself killed him. What could she possibly be dreaming that she couldn’t tell him?
Will wasn’t sure he wanted to know.
He slept restlessly, his responsibilities weighing heavily on his shoulders. He woke up weary, a feeling of hopelessness settling over him. He had to finish working out his plan to get into the compound and steal the book, not to mention what to do with Emma when he did it. James was making agonizingly slow progress, and while he’d defended his friend to Emma the night before, he’d also wondered what James had really been up to. He planned to find out this morning.
He sat up and looked down at Emma’s face, her hair covering her cheek. Leaning over, he brushed the strands away, his fingertips lingering on her soft skin while he released a deep sigh. He was going to be a father and the harsh reality of the situation added to his hopelessness. At this point, everything hinged on that stupid book and the secrets it contained. God help them if it didn’t tell him what they needed to know.
He wondered if he should have a backup plan in case the book didn’t pan out, but he couldn’t even attempt to let his mind wander in that direction. For now, he’d focus on the book.
He reviewed his notes: deliveries, guard shift changes, the traffic at the private airstrip. He was tempted to try to use a delivery truck to get in, but that meant either stealing or hijacking one, either of which could draw unwarranted attention. The tall chain-link fence surrounding the property wasn’t electrified nor were many cameras watching the fence, just the entrances to the buildings. James should be able to disable those, although it would get noticed. He hoped to create a diversion to take attention away from the brief seconds it took to get inside.
Emma stirred in the bed. He looked over his shoulder to see her watching him.
“Feeling better?”
She sat up and rubbed her eyes. “Yeah. What are you up to?”
“Nailing down the details of my plan.”
“Want to share?”
“I want to have James with us first.”
She groaned.
Will ignored and dialed James’s cell phone. He picked up on the fourth ring.
“What the fuck time is it?”
“Time for you to get up. We’ve got some work to do.”
“I’ve been working.”
Will lowered his voice and kept his back to Emma as she walked in to the bathroom. “Yeah, I can see from all the progress I’ve seen.”
“You don’t like the progress I’m making, you feel free to take over,
William
. I never asked to join this expedition.”
Will cringed at his use of his full name, reminding Will of his asshole authoritarian father. James knew which buttons to push. “Do you have anything for me or not?”
“Some.”
“Then I’m coming over to see.”
“No,” James said. “I’ll bring it over to you.”
“Fine, you come here but give me five minutes so Emma has time to get dressed first.”
James grunted and hung up.
Emma stood in the bathroom door. “So James is going to let us see his precious research?”
“He says he has something. We’ll see what it is.”
Emma grabbed a dress from their bag and headed back to the bathroom. “I hate to complain, and I know I have dresses and skirts because it was easier with my leg, but I feel more comfortable in jeans instead of worrying about the wind kicking up my skirt while I’m running for my life.”
She sounded annoyed but she grinned and winked.
“Yeah, I can see how that might be an issue. We can get you some today.”
“Thanks.”
She shut the door, something she did a lot lately. He tried not to let it bother him, telling himself she shut the door so James wouldn’t see her. Not because she had something to hide from him.
James knocked on the door a minute later, walking in with an armload of papers.
“We could have come to your room, James.”
He laid the stack on the desk next to Will’s papers. “Seemed easier to come here than clean up my room.”
Emma opened the bathroom door and James turned to look at her. “Emma.”
She gave him a tight smile. “James. So we finally get to see what you’ve been up to for several days?”
“Oh you know, this and that. Trying to save your ass. The usual. I hear you’ve been busy learning how to blow up fruit. Should prove useful if there’s a killer tomato invasion.”
She gave him a haughty look.
Will groaned. The two of them were worse than bickering children. “James, what do you have?”
He leaned over and spread the top papers out. “I’ve been going through Warren’s cell phone contact list, which is quite extensive, I might add. It’s taken awhile to figure out who the numbers belong to and then cross-reference and see who attended Brown University. I came up with a list of a handful of people, some of whom attended around the time Warren did. Most did not.”
“I don’t think it matters if they were in school at the same time,” Will said, reviewing the list. “The group’s been in existence for over fifty years. As far as I know, they might still be recruiting.”
“Among the list are Scott Kramer, who graduated a year ahead of Warren.” James handed Will a piece of paper.
Will scanned the paper. “Ah, yes. Mr. Kramer.”
“Isn’t he the guy who came into my room?” Emma asked, sitting on the edge of the bed.
“That’s him. He’s the guy who hired me and was my only contact until I got to the compound. He ran the debriefing meeting after I turned you over.”
James leaned against the edge of the desk. “Kramer and Warren go way back, even roomed together in college. Kramer was always the behind-the-scenes guy while Warren was the charismatic charmer.”
“I can attest to that. I might have actually fallen for his charm under different circumstances. I can see why he’s so popular.”
“He’s definitely popular with the people. Polls show Warren a full ten percent ahead of Dixon in the presidential race. It may only be August but most people are already declaring him the winner. It would take a miracle to throw him off his throne.”
“Then we’ll hope for a miracle because I can’t think of a bigger disaster than him being the president of the United States.” Will shuddered.