Safe (The Shielded Series Book 1) (3 page)

Ghared still blamed himself for that accident, though she’d told him a
hundred times it wasn’t his fault. Flexing the fingers of her left hand now,
she fought off old memories and heartbreak over things she’d had to do make
herself whole again.

Focus on now
.

If she had any hope of getting Foster to Emerge Tech, Darina had to use
all her cop skills. Reliving the past—and her mistakes—was not the way to do
that.

They made their way west, sticking close to building remains and moving
like phantoms. Foster kept up effortlessly, never complained about their pace,
and didn’t question any of her decisions. The smart rich guys she’d encountered
did not behave like Foster Ashby at all. They were all too eager to assume she
didn’t know the first thing about anything and made it their duty to enlighten
her. They were manipulative and believed the world revolved around them.

Well, maybe not
this
world. This world barely kept turning on its
axis anymore, but whatever. Every wealthy male she’d had the bad luck to come
across had treated her like an object, one they could do with as they pleased.

And yeah, she’d let that happen. Once. But she’d gotten what she wanted
out of the deal too. Sort of. That was how life rolled sometimes.

Again she flexed the fingers of her left hand, watching the ring of stars
tattoo waver under the movement of the muscles in her forearm. She’d always
been a woman who did what had to be done no matter how much it sucked.

She glanced at Foster. Now she was doing what had to be done to keep this
guy safe. She was always keeping someone safe. Zeke, sometimes Ghared and his
niece, sometimes random people on the streets, and today, a genius doctor.

A damn sexy one.   

The walls of Emerge Tech came into view before she had too much time to
think about Foster as sexy. Distracting thoughts. Her line of work didn’t blend
well with distracting thoughts.

“Thanks,” Foster said. “I can take it from here.” He made a move to walk
past her to the gates.

She grabbed his arm and jerked him back. “My orders are to bring you to
your
domicile
.” She reached into her pocket and produced
the keycard the CEO of Emerge Tech had given her when she’d accepted the job.

Foster eyed the keycard then shook his head. “I don’t need an escort.”

“I didn’t ask if you needed one. You’ve got one, and that’s that.”

He pursed his lovely lips, all the muscles in his face tensing as he
regarded her with those piercing green eyes.

A flash of heat zipped through her body.
Summer temps and running
through the city.
That was all. It had nothing to do with the intensity of
his gaze.

“You’re persistent,” he said.

“I’m thorough. This is my job.” She checked to the left, then the right, and
led the way to the gates.

Foster followed, and she let out the breath she’d been holding. She was
minutes away from collecting one of the biggest paychecks in her career,
and
she’d be inside Emerge Tech’s walls. She didn’t want to have to deal with
Foster if he somehow ruined either of those end results. The money she’d
receive for delivering him would go a long way in keeping her, Zeke, and Ghared
fed and if she could get her hands on something to help Zeke’s seizures, that
would please her like nothing else ever had.

To not have to see her favorite person in the world suffer… hell, she’d
do anything for that.

“How in Hell did we lose him?” Dr. Mikale Warres pounded his fist on the
dashboard in front of him. What good was a cadre of R81 Podsters if you
couldn’t catch one man with them? The sleek, single-person craft was bullet-shaped,
fast, and should have been able to track prey like Foster Ashby without
incident.

Yet, here I am. Empty-handed.

“Sorry, boss,” a voice piped into Mikale’s earpiece. “He isn’t showing up
on any scans.”

“He didn’t just vanish.”
Imbeciles.
He’d probably have better luck
ditching his associates and hunting Ashby on his own. “I’m heading to Emerge
Tech walls. That’s where he’s going.”

“But their security field will zap you, sir. You’ll be fried.”

This was true. For most people anyway. But Mikale wasn’t most people, and
he couldn’t let Ashby get into the safety of Emerge Tech’s defenses. The good
doctor had been bold enough—or stupid enough—to come out into the city, and
Mikale wasn’t wasting that mistake. Only one thing stood in the way of his
plague reaching its intended goal—Dr. Foster Ashby. Mikale planned to take care
of that little detail.

Today.

“I’ll go on foot,” he told his associate. “You and the rest of the team
head back to the base.”

“But sir, you shouldn’t go anywhere near Emerge Tech. It’s not safe for
you.”

Mikale let out a roar. His associate was right of course. He was a wanted
man. “Fine.” No time for arguments. “Take a contingent and get Ashby before he
makes it back inside ET’s walls.”

Flicking off his earpiece, he jetted his Podster to a former parking
garage and landed. It may not be safe for him to go to Emerge Tech, but he
could still comb the streets, hoping Foster was still wandering. He holstered
his gun, attached two pepperblasts to his belt, and ran for the stairs. Most of
them had crumbled to no more than a steep, bumpy ramp so he tested the iron
handrail. Finding it still pretty solid, he straddled it and slid down. He used
this system for four flights then jumped to the pavement of the bottom floor. A
cloud of dust stirred up under his boots, and the crunch of rubble echoed off
the remaining concrete walls of the garage.

Taking a moment to get his bearings, he headed west. With each pound of
his boots, an image of Foster splashed into his mind. Being schoolmates
together. Studying long hours together. Shooting to the top of their class
together, Foster at number one and Mikale at number two. Emerge Tech hiring
them both right out of school. Working side by side on perfecting prosthetic
limb technology. Recognition. Awards. Wealth. They were golden boys.

Together.

Then some punkass techhead terrorists flicked the “off” switch and the
world was plunged into the early 1900s. Fortunately, Emerge Tech had the means
to build itself back up… and protect itself and its employees. He and Foster
hadn’t changed their lifestyles all that much. They’d still lived in great
comfort. They’d still had prestigious jobs, doing the work they loved. They’d
had wounded soldiers aplenty, desperately needing prosthetic limbs after
fighting broke out and the search for the Anarch stretched on. They’d still
been golden boys, though the world was neck deep in pandemonium beyond the walls
of Emerge Tech.

Then Mikale’s mother got sick. She lived on the outside, and he often
visited her, but the city had become a place unfit for an aging woman. Mikale
petitioned to have his mother brought inside the walls, but Emerge Tech
refused.

“If we start taking people in, where do we draw the line?” they’d asked.
“We have important work to do here. We can’t be distracted from our goals.”

“But it’s my mother,” Mikale had said. “I can’t leave her out there.”

Still, Emerge Tech wouldn’t bend, so he’d begun to take her
supplies—food, clothing, medicines. When they’d caught him, they terminated his
employment without a second thought. He hadn’t had a chance to say goodbye to
Foster.

And Foster never contacted him.

His mother’s condition worsened without the medicines, and he had no
materials to make her well again. He couldn’t bear to see her suffer and did
the only thing he could do to relieve her of her suffering.

He wasn’t sure he could do it at first, but the pillow slipped easily
over her face while she slept. She struggled as she fought for air, but Mikale
was so much stronger than she was. He held her in place until she no longer
moved beneath his hold. When he removed the pillow, peace had crept onto her
features.

Mikale wandered the beat-up streets of Boston, barely surviving. The
fighting raged on while the world struggled to plug itself back in, but he
wasn’t a soldier. He was a chemist, a scientist. His brain was his only weapon.
The more he saw what the Anarch had done to the human race, the more he became
convinced the world needed a significant reboot. A total purge and repopulate.

So he set to work. Using unsavory methods, he acquired more wealth and
built his own empire.

And his plague was pure genius.

A vicious virus that infiltrated the body’s internal organs, turning them
to powder, similar to acid’s effect on metal. A steady breakdown of elements
until rust flaked off like orange snowfall. The blood-filled dust seeped
through the pores and eventually the body shut down, leaving a shell of a human
to decay wherever it dropped. 

 Once a good chunk of the human race was gone and the globe was cleansed,
repopulation could begin.

If Foster didn’t succeed in bringing a cure, of course.

Mikale knew Foster succeeded in most everything he did… except
maintaining friendships it seemed.

“Not this time, Ashby,” he growled. “This time things are going to go my
way.”

They had to. He’d worked tirelessly for too long to see his mission fail.
After his mother’s death, he’d found her diary. A tablet containing her
personal thoughts about everything from the best way to clean a stain off her
favorite sweater to whether or not God existed. The woman did superficial and
deep with equal amounts of careful attention and detail.

One line, though, had snagged him. One line that propelled him into
action after reading it. One line that fueled him.

I’ve done my best with Mikale, but he deserves better.

She had been proud of him when he worked for Emerge Tech, but after he
got fired, she’d felt she’d gone wrong somewhere in his upbringing. She’d
blamed herself because he’d been worried about her. Her guilt ate at Mikale’s
soul.

But things would be better once his plague took full effect, and the
world could start again.

His ex-best friend wanted to stop all that with his cure.

Foster Ashby had to die.

****

He’d made it beyond the walls. Technically,
they’d
made it. Darina
hadn’t left his side since they’d been granted access at the gates. Foster
understood it was her job, what Emerge Tech had paid her to do, but it was
totally unnecessary. He wasn’t in any danger within his company’s domain. They
wanted him to succeed with the cure as much as he wanted to succeed, even if
they were pissed he’d left without their approval. He could have parted ways
with Darina at the gates.

“Seriously,” he said now. “My domicile is right there. Why don’t you head
to the main offices to collect your payment?”

“I will.” Darina fingered her weapon in its holster at her hip. “As soon
as I see you to your living room, I’ll be on my way.”

Foster puffed out a breath, realizing by now it’d be a waste of time
arguing with her and her determination. “Fine.”

He quickened his pace, eager to be rid of her.

That’s not true.

She’d gotten him to his destination without either one of them being pummeled
by pepperblast or bullets. No one had plucked them from the streets. It hadn’t
even seemed as if they were being pursued anymore. Darina knew the city layout
and had done as she’d promised.

She’d kept him safe.

He probably wouldn’t have made it on his own. Not that he wasn’t capable,
but his enemies weren’t dummies either. They had a leader with an intellect
that matched his own. They’d be able to anticipate his moves. Plus, most of his
brain was focused on trying to find the cure. He wasn’t paying attention to
anything else.

Also not true.

Darina was something he’d been paying attention to since she’d hauled him
into that abandoned building. Paying too much attention to, in fact. She threw
the unknown into the mix. He didn’t need that, but here he was, pushing his key
into his door, opening it, and not wanting her to leave now that she’d
completed her mission.

But I have my own mission.
One that couldn’t afford distractions.

He turned to face her. “Thank you.”

She gave him a tight nod then glanced over his shoulder. “Mind if I check
out the place. Cop instincts tell me to search the area.”

He stepped aside to let her pass and didn’t mind when her shoulder rubbed
against his chest. Even after sprinting through the streets, she smelled good.
Like aloe, maybe? Following her inside, he closed the door behind him and
watched as she wandered around his living room.

“You live here all by yourself?” She lifted one dark eyebrow at him.

“Yes.”

She frowned and shook her head. “Figures.”

“You think it’s too much for one man?” He folded his arms across his
chest and leaned against the wall by the door.

“It
is
too much for one man.” The disgust in her voice perturbed
him.

He swung one arm out. “I’ve worked hard for all this.”

“I work hard too, Dr. Ashby.” She peeked down the hall and went left.

He followed her. “And yet you live in a tiny domicile?”

“Miniature,” she said as she peeked into his bathroom and bedroom.
“Doesn’t even qualify as a domicile.”

“Alone?” He followed her to his office and library.

“What?” Her eyebrows lowered as she turned and stared at him. Even
slightly pissed off, she was gorgeous. All that reddish-brown hair looked soft,
and Foster had the urge to bury his fingers in it as he feasted on that long,
slender neck of hers. Her eyes were an unusual hazel, concentric circles of
green and brown around black pupils. Her eyelashes were full and feathery.

“Alone. Do you live alone in your miniature non-domicile?” He was
overstepping his bounds, but an unexplainable drive to know more about her prevailed.

“No. My son, Zeke, lives with me.” Her features softened. “He would love
this place.”

And his father?
But Foster didn’t ask that particular question. Too
prying. Instead he asked, “Who watches the boy while you’re busy being a bodyguard?”

“He’s hardly a boy anymore,” Darina said, a slight smile on her lips that
made Foster’s throat go dry. “He’s sixteen, and most likely hanging out with
our neighbor, Ghared.”

“I see.”
Just a neighbor?
 

An awkward silence stretched on as she scouted around the rest of his
place. She moved gracefully and quietly, offering Foster the chance to
appreciate her female form. She had curves right where a woman should have
curves and muscles right where a woman trying to survive in 2025 should have
muscles.

She pointed to a door across the living room. “What’s behind there?”

“My lab.”

“You have a lab in your domicile?”

“I work around the clock, Officer Lazitter. Emerge Tech thought it would
be convenient and more productive for me to have a lab right here.”

She left that one alone and went to one of the large windows. Bracing her
hand on the wall, she peeked out but reared back when she saw the view.

“Don’t like heights?”

She shook her head and turned from the window.

He grinned at her sickly expression. “And here I was thinking you didn’t
have any weaknesses.”

“Shut it or I’ll knee you in the head again.” With that threat, her
badass aura returned.

“You’re only allowed one of those.” Though he wouldn’t mind if she wanted
to put her hands on him in other ways.

“I never said I was playing by
your
rules.” She brushed some dirt
off her pants.  

“Can I get you something to drink or eat?” After all, the woman did run
through the filthy city with him, some of it with hot summer sun beaming down
on them. She was getting payment, but that wasn’t from him directly. He wanted
to show his gratitude. Other ways to do that kept creeping into his
subconscious the more he looked at her, but he had to keep it polite and
professional.

“You have clean water?”

“Of course.” His response made her scowl, and he immediately regretted
his superior attitude. “My apologies. I didn’t mean to sound like a—”

“Rich bastard?” she finished. “You probably can’t help it. You are, in
fact, a rich bastard.” She gestured to his domicile.

“Rich, maybe,” he said as he filled a glass with water at the sink in the
kitchen then handed it to her. “Bastard, definitely not.”

She made a noise as if she didn’t believe him and drank the water. When
she tipped her head back to get the last of the drink, Foster had to look away
for fear of descending upon her exposed throat. All caramel-colored smooth skin
in one long line… no, that was too damn tempting, especially because he hadn’t
touched a real woman in so long. She clearly wouldn’t appreciate an advance
from him though, rich bastard that she assumed he was.

Handing him the glass, she said, “Thanks. Good luck with your work, Dr.
Ashby. We’re all counting on you.”

As if he needed the reminder.

She started for the door but turned around before reaching it. “What were
you doing in the city anyway? Why leave the safety of this place when your
employer clearly didn’t want you to? I mean, there’s a plague raging out there.
One you specifically are aware of.”