Read Mimics of Rune 02- Surrender Online
Authors: Aimee Laine
Tags: #Paranormal Romance, #genetic testing, #Shape Shifter, #Romance, #mimic, #abuse, #urban fantasy
Charley tapped him on the shoulder. “Let’s take a break. We’re stressed. We’re overtired. At least, Wyatt and I are. Or maybe just me.” She walked past him. “We’re going to crash and resume in the morning.”
“Here, or are you going … home?” Cael asked.
She held out her hand for Wyatt and waited.
He took it. “You still have your room, you know. It’s been a month since we’ve stayed.” He gathered her into his arms and smiled.
Cael never thought adjusting to not having Charley around all the time would affect him. With Lily gone, the lack of them both tore his heart in two.
“We’ll stay.” Her hand slipped to Wyatt’s. “I want to be here anyway in case Lily—”
All four cell phones buzzed.
Cael whipped his out as Charley, Wyatt and James did the same.
A single text appeared on Cael’s screen.
Am okay. Not sure where. Don’t worry. Eat red-topped containers first so they don’t go bad.
Charley snorted. Wyatt laughed. James burst out a guffaw.
Cael’s scowl took hold until the tightness of his muscles sent a throb of a headache through his eyes. “What the hell is wrong with you three? She’s missing, dammit, and you think—”
Charley’s arms wound around him again, soothing as much as it hurt. “I told you she was stronger than you thought. She told us what to eat, Cael. To eat!” Her mirth continued while Cael’s worries grew.
“I’m with …” Wyatt started.
Cael shot a glance at Wyatt.
“… Let’s wait and see what’s going on. Since Roy’s not involved, then—”
“This could be a fake.” Cael pushed away. “I’m going to go run some diagnostics.”
“Cael!” Charley’s voice reached him from behind. “She’s okay. I can feel it.”
“You’re not a Mimic anymore, Charley. You can’t just
feel
everything.”
• • •
Footsteps behind Cael persisted as he enclosed himself in their shared inner office and folded himself into his chair.
The door slammed shut. “That was a fucking low blow, Cael, and you know it.” Wyatt stood with his arms crossed over his chest.
Cael clicked on the keyboard, bringing the monitor to life. “Charley can’t do everything she did before. You of all people know that.”
Wyatt grabbed the back of a chair and slammed it into the desk.
“What do you want me to say? You want me to agree that Lily’s just fine because she says so?” He spit the words toward Wyatt.
“Yes.” Wyatt’s tone reflected Cael’s.
“Why?” Rage exploded with the short word. “When Chase was gone …”
Lily was the basket case. Charley was the rock.
“You, of all people, know that answer.”
Touché.
Cael had been an ass to say what he did to Charley. Of anyone to pick on, it should have been himself. She’d been nothing but a gracious host, sister, friend and teammate for almost fifty years. Charley’s reaction hadn’t been wrong—it just hadn’t been Lily’s.
“She trusts way too easily, Wyatt.”
Which is why I take care of her.
His dramatic eye roll disagreed. “She
doesn’t
trust easily. But when she does, she trusts implicitly. Again, you should know that.”
Dammit.
Cael did know. He knew when Lily’s smile came out fake and when she meant it. He could read her emotions as if they’d taken steps to blend—to mix their genetic code—decades before. “She could be lying.”
Wyatt’s laugh came out full. “Then why make the comment about food? That’s completely Lily. You want her to be freaking out, don’t you? And you want Charley to be, too.”
A tap on a few keys brought up the account the FBI used to trace and track cell phones. Cael stared at it as he thought through the truth of Wyatt’s claim—the same idea Charley had tried to say in different words. His jaw clenched and released.
“Do you think she left, Cael?”
“Of course not.” He typed in the number that had come through with the text.
“You think this is related to whatever you
think
she was keeping from you?”
He shrugged but continued his search until he found the name Tony Jenkins in, of all places, San Diego, California.
Shit.
“You’re looking up the number, aren’t you?”
Another few taps and he’d find the cell’s location. Unless Tony moved, Cael would have an address or GPS coordinates, and a few more clicks would give him turn by turn directions.
He stopped and stared at Wyatt. “Wouldn’t you do the same thing?”
Wyatt’s lids closed. “Absolutely. What’re you going to do once you find it?” Wyatt’s matter-of-fact tone had Cael turning back to the screen.
One final press on the ‘enter’ key put the search in motion. It would only take a second, maybe two.
“I’m going to find Lily.”
Wyatt drifted backward toward the door. “I’ll tell Charley.”
“No.”
The slow swivel of his head suggested Wyatt either misunderstood or disagreed. “No?”
“Yes, no. She thinks Lily is fine. Let her think it. Inside, she’s probably freaking out but doing the whole song and dance because that’s how she is.” Cael remembered well the last time a family member disappeared. “Chase comes back in two days with Maggie. If Lily’s not back, he’s going to be a handful.”
As will I.
“Just let me deal with this for right now.”
Wyatt hung his head. “What do we tell him, then? If—”
The screen blinked at Cael; an address, still in California, appeared. “Just get tucked in tight and take care of Charley. I’m going to bring Lily back if it’s the last thing I do.”
Wyatt sniggered. “Very cliché.”
“But it’s true.”
• • •
Lily curled into herself as Tony took his side of the bed. For a moment, she wanted to tuck herself up against him, to promise that everything would be all right. To tell him she didn’t know Angela, but she could be her—permanently, even in another few days if she’d interpreted the tremors inside her body the right way.
Where are these feelings coming from?
The thought of replacing Angela and giving Max a mom again warmed her.
Which is so very, very wrong until I know what’s happened to Angela.
Red, glowing numbers flipped to 4:01 AM.
Tony’s breathing remained a constant white noise.
Lily took it to mean he’d found peace—that having his wife back meant his mind and body, and probably soul, could relax. Hers would have if she’d been in the same situation.
If she had Cael.
Don’t think about him. Charley always says to get the facts.
Why did Tony drug me to get me if he acts so nice?
Where am I?
What do Charley and James, Wyatt and—-
her thoughts stopped as she brought Cael to mind again.
Tony reminded her of Cael, though Cael had another few inches and extra muscle. He also had a kindness beyond measure, always putting her first.
She smiled to herself, imagining him lying behind her, his body against hers, and a sigh escaped.
Friends.
They’d been friends for so long that even their shared birthday didn’t seem to matter to their connection—like it had for Charley and Wyatt, even James and Maggie. Lily had simply never had the overwhelming urge to blend—to take on a final form with anyone
.
Yet the tug with Max and Tony held fast to her body and her mind—a sensation she recognized as her physiological attempt to make a permanent and final change.
Lily pressed a hand to her stomach, wishing the action would stop whatever built within her.
Tony’s shifting on her right had her bracing.
His breathing regulated again.
Sleep, Lil. You need sleep. When you get back home, then you can talk to Charley about what to do.
• • •
The private jet reached into the sky and banked left as the sun rose in the east. Cael had boarded at 5:00 AM, having left the house without making a sound. Another five or six hours and he’d be in California.
Charley would be pissed. Wyatt would understand. James would be disappointed, but none of them knew what Cael did.
Tony Jenkins married Angela Evelyn Hayes, daughter of Evelyn Lilian Crane.
Lily’s mother.
Lily’s sister.
No one, not even Lily’s real family, took her from him and got away with it.
Soon, Cael would be on a doorstep.
From there, he’d determine what to do next.
5
The clock’s brightness faded with the rising sun. At 6:59, before any alarm sounded, Lily rose, having spent the entire night staring at each number as it changed. Grateful she could get away with little sleep, she slipped into the bathroom, flipped the lock and grabbed the cell phone again.
A slide to the shower and a spin of the knob had it filling the small room with sound.
She activated the phone, pressing buttons and flipping through the details on various screens. In Tony’s address book, she found one name after another. Scrolling through each letter gave her nothing new to work with. At his own name—Anthony Jenkins—she pulled up the record. He listed Angela Jenkins as his spouse and an address in San Diego, California.
I’m in California? Oh god, oh god, oh god, not here.
She scrolled through more, her fingers shaking with each tap. She found photos of Tony and Angela, Max and a girl she figured had to be Leigh with cascading golden hair, a bright smile and eyes on the melted side of chocolate. Lily would have said the most recent picture meant Leigh had been closer to twelve or thirteen years old, not the ten from the portrait.
Lily opened the email program, searching subject lines and body text for something that would clue her in to why Angela had left or disappeared and how Lily had been taken in her place.
More scrolling resulted in a few additional pictures of Leigh and, in ones dated just two months before, the beautiful brown of her hair had paled by several shades.
Oh, shit.
Lily zoomed in on Leigh’s eyes, but the effect blurred the photo and did not give Lily a glimpse into the color. She searched for close-ups, looking for evidence of her own kind—eyes that would match the paleness of Leigh’s skin—like Lily’s had been when her thirteenth birthday had occurred.
Is Angela a Mimic? Is Leigh?
At the knock, Lily fumbled the phone. She caught it right before it fell into the toilet. A toss had it landing on the shelf as she stripped her clothes.
Please don’t come in here.
Staring at herself, she realized she had no idea what Angela’s body looked like. Did she have stretch marks from two pregnancies? Moles or freckles or birthmarks in any places? The lack of detail had panic rising and her hands shaking.
You can do this. Charley always says, show ‘em what they can see and hide what they can’t
.
As mist filled the room, she dropped her clothes into a pile and stepped into the shower. The opaque doors might conceal her enough if Tony joined her in the room.
Another soft rap came just before, “Anj? Can I come in?”
“Uh …”
Oh, I locked the door!
“Door’s locked.” Lily blew out a frantic breath.
The handle jiggled. “Oh, okay. I’ll be downstairs getting Max ready for preschool.” A light thud shook the door like a head hitting the outer surface. “Anj?”
“Yeah?”
“Never mind. I’ll be downstairs.”
On a sigh, Lily’s shoulders fell.
She washed and rinsed her hair—simple, normal, womanly activities that she expected even Angela did on a daily basis. She could only hope she’d picked up the right shampoo.
Well, if it was his, and he comments, I’ll say I missed him, too.
At the thought of smells, Cael’s scent, a mix of cologne and
him,
hit her.
Her eyes widened as if he were right at her side, yet nothing more than water rained down around her.
I’m going nuts. This is probably all an illusion. I’ll go out there, and Cael and James will ask me what I’m making them for breakfast.
She nodded her head.
Yup. Has to be.
With a twist of the knob, sound ceased. Lily took a deep breath, wrapped herself in a robe she found behind the door and walked into the bedroom.
Okay, maybe not
.
Without Tony to stare at her, she took her time, rummaging through the dresser in search of clothes. Angela’s tastes ran to the delicate and feminine—a style Lily liked herself. She chose pink underwear and a matching bra, which according to the size would require Lily to enhance her breasts.
Does she have implants?
She slipped them on, grabbed a T-shirt and jeans that didn’t require any additional adjustment to fit into. Another deep sigh and Lily faced the door.
Two floors. One kid. One man. I can do this.
Her tentative steps didn’t last long as a scream pierced the air.
Lily raced down the stairs, taking them two or three at a time until she reached the second floor landing.
More cries gurgled from Max.
She followed through the hallway until she leapt down four steps and another four to reach the floor. Her breath came in pants as she spun toward Max’s sobs.
Swinging around and through a door, she found Max at the table with Tony, his spoon mid-way up to his mouth.
Max’s wide eyes softened, and his screech stopped.
“What happened?” Lily asked.
“Nothing,” Tony said and finished navigating the spoon to his mouth.
“I don’t wanna go.” Max’s pouty lip quivered as he propped his elbows on the table. His Superman shirt showed off puny little arms just as cute as any four year old—ever.
“I told him
I
was taking him to preschool today, even though you’re back.”
Lily shifted from Tony, dressed in his corporate blue pinstripe suit and red power tie, to Max and back.
Does Angela work? Dammit. This stuff is hard.
“Mommy needs time to rest, Max. She’ll be home when you’re done.” Tony tilted up to Lily as if to say ‘right?’ before returning to Max. “And we can build a fort in the tree house tonight.”