In Like a Lion (8 page)

Chapter 9

Anjali stared at the lab work in front of her. How could this be? She rubbed her forehead. The numbers on the paper were identical to the earlier set. The digits should have been in a similar range, but to be absolutely the same? Something didn’t add up here.

It seemed clear the test hadn’t been re-run. Was the failure laziness? Incompetence? Or something more sinister?

Who was she fooling? She almost threw up her hands. As Vinit would have said, there was some suspicious shit going down. A pattern of deception.

She had no choice except to run the labs herself, but that meant getting close enough to draw blood from Jake. Touching him.

The thought traced shivers up her arms, and not fear shivers either. She tasted blood and realized she’d bitten her lip hard enough to break the skin. Jake Finn was dangerous for more than his abilities. He put a dent in the veneer of her self-control and that she must fight with every ounce of her being.

If she closed her eyes, she could still see her father shaking his finger at her. “You’re like a wild animal, Anjali. If you want to do well in life, get control.”

Because she’d loved him, she’d curbed the untamed side of her, and he’d been right. Control was key. She’d never have gotten her medical degree or survived after her parents had died without it.

Thoughts of her father stiffened her resolve. She needed Jake’s blood and she was going to get it.

Still, given what’d happened earlier, she couldn’t just go in and draw the sample as she would from an ordinary patient. Mr. Kincaid had insisted she follow their protocols and protocol demanded blood be taken by a tech while Jake was sedated.

Unfortunately, trusting that procedure had yielded
kinee
. Nothing.

She closed her eyes. Her only choice was to go off the books, so to speak, and that would be no cakewalk in a building with more cameras than a high-tech casino.

First stop, the auxiliary control room.

Anders was still on duty when Anjali got to the secure section. She smiled, her heart banging against her chest with the visceral force and speed of a drummer beating a
dhol
. She adjusted her purse with the roll of her shoulder and prayed he couldn’t tell she was as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs as her college roommate used to say.

He nodded to her, letting her in. “Good afternoon, Dr.”

She didn’t relax even when the door clanged behind her. Instead, straightening her back and forcing herself not to peer at the camera that monitored the line of cells.

Jake glanced up when she arrived, his face a study of clean lines, those intense eyes jolting in their beauty, almost making her forget her mission.

She swallowed. Every time she saw him, his presence hit her harder. Sadly, she could no longer pretend her racing pulse had anything to do with fear. At least, that he would hurt her physically.

Control, Anjali.

She let her gaze sweep to the camera across from his cell for a moment and, tucking a wisp of escaped hair behind her ear, she strolled to the far wall. She knew from her calculations in the auxiliary control room that area was almost entirely out of the camera’s field of vision.

He didn’t speak as he watched her and she realized she hadn’t either. She scrambled to fill in the silence. “How are you this afternoon?”

His eyes narrowed and the corner of his mouth jerked into a wry half-smile. “Fine,” he said as if they were random acquaintances meeting on the street. He ducked his head. What she could see of his dark saturnine face beneath that thick hair was wary. “How are you?”

“Good. Good.” She leaned over and placed her large purse on the desk just out of camera sight. “We made some progress this morning.” She caught his eye with purpose. “It would be to both our benefits, if you continue to cooperate.”

He studied her like a slide under a microscope before glancing away. “If you say so.”

Anjali couldn’t have repeated what she said next under penalty of death, she could barely even hear herself over the buzzing in her ears as she backed up as far as possible.

She continued her patter as her hand grasped the lightweight tube in her pocket. After some time mulling over the options, she’d scrapped the idea of getting a blood test under the radar. There was just no way she could do a blood draw without attracting the guard’s attention. She’d have to go through regular channels for the draw part at least. Getting DNA, however, couldn’t be simpler.

Of course, she would have to call in a favor from a friend, but that was a miniscule price to pay to get the data she required.

Two questions remained. Would Jake cooperate? And could she make him understand the cheek scraping needed to be done in secret?

Removing the collection kit from her pocket, Anjali held it in front of her chest, making sure her body shielded it from the camera.

She could read the confusion on Jake’s face, but he didn’t say, “What the hell are you up to?” Instead, eyes averted, muscular forearms folded, he lounged against the bars and launched into a monologue about
Star Wars
.

Grateful for the cover, she swallowed. He had to wonder why she would need secrecy, but he seemed willing to go with it. Now, if she could only get the kit to him without the exchange being noted on camera.

She slid the tube back into her pocket for a moment and took a hardcover book from her purse. “I noticed you like to read.”

The raspy laugh he released seemed almost involuntary. “There’s not much else to do in here.”

“Well, I brought you this book.” Using her body as cover once more, she retrieved the kit and tucked it between her palm and the book. “It’s
The Three Musketeers
by Dumas. Have you read it?”

He almost raised his eyes, then stared at the floor. A muscle clenched in his jaw. She wished she knew why.

“No. I haven’t.”

Anjali snagged a sigh before it could escape.
So far so good.
“I’m going to hand it to you, but you have to promise you won’t try anything.” She glanced at the camera. “You know they’re watching.”

He continued to study the floor.
God, if he would only look up.
She’d give anything to read his expression, to know what he was thinking. The moment spun out with the dreadful slow motion of an approaching car wreck as she waited for his answer, her mind sorting through scenarios—the plan if he said yes. What to do if he said no.

A nod made his hair swing forward to touch his stubble-darkened jaw. “I know.”

The deep timbre of his voice vibrated in her chest. She pushed aside her dog-fighting butterflies. This was going to work.

Mouth dry, she leaned forward, holding out the book. The kit felt enormous in her palm, but even if the tube stuck out, its clear plastic should be nearly invisible through the camera.

Jake hesitated a minute before stretching out his large, well-formed hand.

She couldn’t help staring at his hand. It seemed capable of wielding a hammer or lifting enormous bales of hay. What would that hard palm would feel like on her cheek—or her breast? She could almost feel the delicious scrape against her nipple.

A shudder awakened her to the fact that he was still waiting. He didn’t meet her eyes, but she could feel a question in the air.

Hurriedly, she stuffed the book into his hand, rolling the tube forward beneath it, so he could feel the plastic.

He took the book and the kit without a word, letting his arm fall to his side, hiding the tube.

Needing a way to conceal her shaking hands, Anjali went to the table and grabbed her tablet. She pretended to scroll through her notes and glanced at his profile. “You’ve had a lot of tests over the years, haven’t you?”

“You could say that.” Jake’s tone was dry.

She grimaced. “I see a DNA profile here. You remember how that was taken?”

“DNA?”

She could see that muscle play in his cheek. She jiggled her foot. Did he get the message?

“I’m not usually conscious when Kincaid wants samples.”

The admission wasn’t anything she didn’t know, but the image it spawned, this vital man unconscious on a metal table being poked and prodded like a tiger in the zoo, stung her just the same. She fisted her hand to stop it from rising to the ache in her chest.

Jake shrugged. “But I figure he uses a cheek scraping like on
CSI
.

He understood. A slow, steady puff whooshed from her. Her eyes flicked toward the camera and she prayed the motion hadn’t seemed like the sigh of relief it was.

He ran his hand through his hair. “Do you plan to do more tests?”

“Eventually.”

“I guess I’ll see you later then.”

For secrecy’s sake, later was better, but she wanted answers as soon as possible. “See you later? Don’t you feel like talking now?”

“On second thought”— He faced her, his gaze just brushing her shoulder—“There’s no time like the present.”

Anjali nodded. “That’s what my father always said. Although, you know, in Gujarati, of course.” She almost rolled her eyes at the inanity of her words. If anyone was listening, they either thought she was a total flake or up to something.

“Gujarati?” He’d angled back into the shoulder against the bar position he seemed to favor, the book and the contraband stashed under his arm.

“My mother tongue. You remember, I told you my family is from the state of Gujarat? It has its own language. There are more than twenty-five official languages in India. There is no Indian language, though I supposed Hindi comes close.” Now she was babbling, but, damnit, she felt like that damn kit flashed under his muscular arm like a neon sign.

His well-formed head almost swung her way again, before he stalked toward the back of his cell, tossing the book onto the bed. “I’ve heard of Gujarati. I’m sorry. I’m not feeling very well.”

She fingered her bangles. “Uh, maybe some water would help?” It would certainly give him an excuse to raise his hand to his mouth.

He nodded and padded to the sink, gripping the white porcelain with one hand, his shoulders blocking the front of his body. She could hear water running. When he turned back and went to the bed, his hand appeared empty, but she knew the kit was there. He snagged the book. “You know, I think I’ve read this.”

He thrust the hand with the book through the bars. The large, hardcover book seemed smaller in his capable hand, as if it’d shrunk when she’d passed it over.

She moistened her dry lips with her tongue. Almost done.

Now all she had to do was take the book and the collection kit from his hand.

Her hand swung up from her side. The memory of his lips on her wrist heated her cheeks, spurring the
dhol
in her chest to greater heights. The sensation that she watched her body from the outside overwhelmed her.
Calm down, Anjali
. Dropping the kit would be like waving a red flag in front of the camera. There was no way Anders would miss it. She’d be fired.

“You gonna take this?” Jake’s glance darted toward the camera.

“Of course.” She stepped closer. Her hand closed around the book, the plastic kit, and his fingers. Afraid to move too quickly and fumble, she slid her hand forward, the pads of her fingers and her palm gliding along the back of his hand. Tiny hairs and warm, smooth skin tickled her palm. His scent enveloped her. A heady mix she could never describe but seemed exactly like a man should smell. She almost closed her eyes in pleasure.

His gaze came up to hers, and she could see his pupils had widened, leaving only a golden ring of iris and knew her own were just as wide, as if her body longed to open to him in every way.

She hung there, suspended in the amber of his eyes, knowing she was taking far too long, knowing if Anders was watching the monitor, he’d see them in essence holding hands, and would be there any second, but unable to wrench away.

Flecks of blue formed in his irises and merged, until all the gold was gone. She swore she could feel his heartbeat in her hand and it beat in time with hers.

He tugged her toward him until she could feel his body heat through the bars. His head lowered. His lips parted. She waited, every nerve on overload.

“Get out,” he said. “Get out now.”

Chapter 10

Anjali barely made it back to the safety of her desk in her office before she collapsed. Raising a trembling hand to her head, she realized she still held the plastic kit.

She grabbed the mail-in envelope she’d prepared earlier, dropped the kit in, and stuffed the package into her purse to put in the mail on her way home. She marshaled her rioting nerves, ruffling through her papers and trying not to think about what had happened during the exchange.

How could the touch of a man’s hand have upended her like that, driving all thoughts of her plan straight out of her head?

Her phone rang and Anjali picked up, thankful for the distraction.
I’ll take normality for one hundred. Thank you, Alex.

“Dr. Mehta?” The soft female voice with a slight foreign cadence was unfamiliar to Anjali.

She blinked. “Yes?”

“This is Dr. Xa.”

Why was her new doctor contacting her? “Hello, Dr. Did I forget to fill out a form?”

“No. The RN labs called about your blood work.”

“My blood work?” The workup should have been routine. Anjali’s heart caught an edge, snowplowing into a faster rhythm. This couldn’t be good.

“Yes.” The other woman paused. “I’d like you to come in as soon as possible. Your CBC shows an elevated white blood count. Probably nothing to worry about. As you know, leukocytosis could be a result of a bacterial infection or even stress.”

“Or leukemia,” Anjali said, thinking of a childhood friend lost to the disease.

“Not my first thought, but a distant possibility. I’d like you to make an appointment.”

By the time Anjali put down the phone, she felt wrung out. Her world reeled, as out of control as a string of lit firecrackers. First, this upheaval at work and now health issues. She turned back toward the cellblock without conscious thought. She needed Jake.

Never mind that he didn’t want to see her, she needed the quiet strength of his presence and she was too tired to care why.

Ky put his legs up on his desk and took a sip of scotch, inhaling the potent fumes and letting the peaty flavor roll over his tongue, his gaze on the laptop monitor in front of him. His six year-old self waved at the camera. A huge smile stretched his round, baby face, displaying a gap in his teeth that would have done a jack ‘o lantern proud.

Ky sucked another swallow of scotch through his teeth.
The little idiot.
He had no idea how close he was to disaster. A Christmas tree glittered with tinsel and colored ornaments in the background. Toys and wrapping paper were strewn knee deep. The other boys ran or toddled around, depending on their ability. His mother smiled, Madonna sweet, from the overstuffed couch beside the tree, baby Jake cradled in her arms.

“Jesus, Ky. Drinking?” John leaned his shoulder against the open wooden cubbies that divided the office from the living room and kitchen.

Usually, Ky would have made a joke about a demon using the name of God, but he wasn’t in a joking mood. He raised his glass and saluted the dark sky visible through the windows behind him. “It’s after five.”

His friend heaved a long-suffering sigh. “You know what I mean. Your control—”

“Is shit these days and getting worse. You don’t have to remind me.” There was only a hint of growl in the words and Ky took a celebratory sip of his drink, draining his glass and reaching for the half-full bottle of fiery liquid sitting in the desk.

John snagged the bottle before Ky’s hand could close around it and disappeared, returning seconds later with his hands empty. “Have you even eaten?”

“No.” Ky glanced at the pajama-clad boys on the screen, faces glowing, bouncing off each other in excitement. “Couldn’t choke anything down.” Ky’s voice was harmonic and he cleared his throat, grasping for mastery over his dragon. “And that was five-hundred dollar scotch.”

John shrugged and shoved his hands into his jean pockets. “It’s in a safe place.” He propped his backside against the desk, as if he hadn’t just stolen an unstable chimera’s only crutch. “I take it that doctor never called back?”

Ky rifled through his hair with both hands in frustration. “No, and from the doctor’s reaction we can’t call the phone. We know where it is, but not what we’re marching into. Thalia’s working on more.”

Happy squeals from the laptop drew both their attention. Ky’s mother was letting him hold baby Jake. The other boys crowded around, clamoring for turns. “Look at us. We doted on him.” His gruff partial laugh held no humor. “I swore I’d protect him—protect all of them.”

He pushed back from the desk, pouncing to his feet. “I can’t just sit here. Hell, I should have searched for them myself from the beginning, instead of wasting my time with Mythic Corp.”

“It took a professional more than ten years to find them.” John’s tone was repellently rational. “Even if you’d done better, which I doubt you could have, what could you have given them? A life on the run?”

“At least we would have been together.” Ky paced. “Goddamnit, John. I built all of this”—he waved a hand around the room—“for them. To find them, to protect them, and Ethan’s probably dead. Jake’s locked up. Tyler and Connor are in a fucking war zone . . .”

He blew out a stream of air. “I can’t wait any longer. I have to leave.”

John grabbed at Ky’s arm, but seemed to think better of it and let his hand drop.

Fuck it.
His best friend was afraid to touch him.

“We only just administered the new therapy to the female. If it works . . . Just give it ‘til Friday like we agreed.”

Ky hesitated then let his head fall to his chest in a nod. “Until Friday, and not a moment longer.”

Anjali’s tablet clattered as she set it on the little table outside Jake’s cell. The sound magnified for some reason. She’d studiously avoided looking at him since entering the cellblock, but now she turned and deflated. He lay on his cot as usual, but he wasn’t reading. He was asleep. A gusty sigh escaped her, her chest leaden with disappointment. Well, at least she would have his presence without his anger.

She settled in to do some administrative work. Half an hour later, a reminder beeped on her phone. Her doctor’s appointment. She stood and collected her stuff, but dithered, reluctant to leave without smoothing things over with Jake.

Finally, she set her tablet down again and went to the bars. He sprawled on the cot, head near the top, his large feet on the bottom edge, and she realized the bed was oversized, but not really enough. It must be uncomfortable to have his bare feet just on the end like that.

He breathed evenly, his beautiful chest rising and falling. The clean lines of his face were almost softened by the black fans of his eyelashes and the dark scruff of late afternoon on his cheeks and chin. Maybe she shouldn’t wake him. She turned to gather her tablet. Her phone beeped again in her pocket. The reminder sounded like a fire alarm in her ears, but she glanced at Jake and he didn’t stir.

A frown tugged her forehead. That was odd. She knew from their conversations he had hypersensitive hearing. The first reminder should have awakened him. “Jake?”

No response. Not even a twitch. She raised her voice. “Jake!”

Alarmed, she rang the intercom button on the wall.

“Sanchez, here. What can I do for you, Doctor?”

Sanchez’s voice was loud over the speaker, but a glance revealed Jake was still asleep.

Worry gnawed at her with sharp, biting teeth. Asleep? Or unconscious?

“I can’t seem to wake J— Mr. Finn.”

“Yeah. He wasn’t taking his medication, so Mr. Kincaid had it administered through his food.”

Anjali bit her nail. “I see. Thank you.”

She slid out her phone. She had to get moving or she’d miss her appointment, but she just couldn’t leave him like this. Mr. Kincaid answered on the first ring.

“Anjali, how are things going?”

“I was just wondering that myself. I went to interview Jake and he was unconscious.”

Mr. Kincaid tutted. “Ahh, must be a dosage error. I’ll talk to the techs.”

Anjali sucked her cheek. A dosage error? They’d held Jake for years and they didn’t know what dosage he required? She was getting damn sick of being lied to. “Actually, I wanted to run another blood panel, to examine his ANA specifically.” She prayed he didn’t know that test was simply an indicator of inflammation. “I need him off medication for that.”

There was silence on the other end of the line for a long moment. “We do have procedures for taking samples while he’s awake, but they’re rather . . . draconian. I hope you won’t be shocked. We can’t risk an escape for everyone’s safety. Especially Finn’s.”

“I understand.”

“The medicine will be out of his system in twelve hours. We’ll see you in the morning.”

Twelve hours. Anjali inhaled long and slow. Plenty of time to prepare.

The sight of Jake in chains as they led him into her lab at 9:00 a.m. the next morning hit her like a sledgehammer to the solar plexus. She’d seen heavily restrained men on TV, legs and arms shackled and chained to a leather strap around their waist, but Jake’s chains were thicker by a factor of four. She wouldn’t have been able to take a step, but Jake barely shuffled. As always, his feet were bare and he wore only scrub pants. She swallowed. She’d never seen him without a barrier between them. He seemed simply too gorgeous and powerful to exist in reality, like one of those idealized paintings they did of superheroes.

Anders laid a baton on Jake’s naked shoulder and guided him to a massive hook hanging on the far wall. She’d never even noticed the gleaming, wicked-looking thing before. The Hulk-like guard took out a key and unlocked the fastener holding Jake’s hands at his waist, stretching Jake’s spectacular arms up over his head and looping the chains on the hook. Anders then stooped and locked the leg restraints to a bolt on the floor before taking up a post in the corner out of the way.

Anjali eased a hand into her lab coat pocket and fingered the vial of blood she’d drawn from herself after her doctor’s appointment the night before. All she had to do was get Jake’s blood and switch it when the guard wasn’t paying attention. If the earlier results were fake, they’d never discover the deception. If they’d actually tested the blood, well, mix-ups happened in labs everyday.

She almost jumped when Anders’ phone rang. Glass clinked as she set out her materials, trying not to seem as if she listened to his conversation. From his responses, their boss was on the line.

“Yes, sir.” Anders hung up and glanced at her, sliding his phone into a holder on his belt with a click. “I’m sorry, Dr. Mehta. Mr. Kincaid needs me elsewhere.” He ran his icy gaze over Jake. “He should be completely secure. Hit the panic button if something happens.”

Anjali schooled the smile that threatened to erupt, her pulse doing little leaps of joy. “Absolutely. I’m sure, it’ll be fine.” Now, she only had to hide the switch from the camera. She turned back toward Jake, ignoring the tiny voice that suggested Anders’ departure was too good to be true.

As soon as the blond guard left, Anjali spun to face Jake.

His head was lowered, his hair hiding his remarkable eyes, but there was something terribly erotic about having him served up this way, his arms over his head, chest sculpted down to the ridges of his chiseled abdomen. The cold, sterile lines of the lab only emphasized his incredible aura of strength and power.

Whew
. Anjali held back the urge to fan herself.
Better get this over with.

The smell of latex filled her nose as she snapped on her gloves, then picked up the rubbery tourniquet. She moved to Jake and stopped in consternation. How the hell had they gotten blood from him this way?

“Umm.” She licked her lips. “I need your arms down. Do I need to call someone?”

He tossed his head, shifting the strands of inky hair, allowing his eyes to peek through. “I can’t free them from the hook myself, but I’ll let you do it.”

“You will?” Remembering the last time they’d been that close, Anjali’s lungs suddenly found oxygen too slippery to grasp.

Jake’s voice sounded raspy. “I’m just coming down from all those drugs Kincaid pumped in me. I don’t need to be shocked by a cattle prod.”

Despite her misgivings about her employer, she couldn’t help defending the older man. “Mr. Kincaid has—”

“Been my jailer for most of my life. I’d prefer not to talk about him. Let’s just get this over with.”

Anjali nodded, pressing her lips together. Fair or not, he had a point.

“You’ll need a stepstool or a chair.”

Well, he was certainly being helpful. Scanning the room, she discovered a folded stepstool tucked in a corner and quickly set it up. In order to reach his wrists she was going to have to get close. Very close. His hard chest would be inches from hers, his mouth would be near enough to feel his breath on her face.

She could do this. She just had to be quick. She stepped up, wobbling a bit, but caught herself with her hand on the base of the hook before she could fall against him.

“What’s that?” Jake’s voice was hard and tight.

She glanced at him, then followed his gaze back up to the portion of her forearm exposed by the receding arm of her lab coat. A dark bruise marred the skin. She yanked her sleeve back over the mark, hiding it from those penetrating eyes. “It’s nothing. I got a bit jostled around the other day.”

She’d given more blood last night than the vial she’d taken for Jake but that wasn’t worth thinking about.

She brought her other hand up and hoisted Jake’s chained wrists off the hook, telling herself she couldn’t feel his body heat though her clothes. She wished she could pretend his scent, wild and potent, giving rise to images of sun-heated grasslands, didn’t make her dizzy. Didn’t prickle across her nerves like plush fur dragged across hypersensitive skin.

With his wrists unhooked, she stepped off the stool, tucking it away as he dropped his arms. Trying not to think what it would feel like if she stepped forward and let those corded arms loop around her.