Shrouded in Darkness (Shrouded Series) (26 page)

She thought of Jake and the torment he’d endured during his attacks. If she didn’t do something, she’d find herself in the same excruciating situation. She didn’t have Jake’s strength. She’d never be able to endure that type of pain.

Panic bubbled up her throat. “Don’t do this to me, Malcolm. You’re making a big mistake. If you would just—”

“Don’t bother. Nothing’s going to change my mind. I want the completed formula of Miracell with its antidote. Jake needs to get motivated. Your life on the line—now that—that should get him moving in the right direction.” Stepping back several feet, he placed the vial on the counter and waved the gun at her. “Okay. Now I want you to take off your jacket.”

Margot took a shuddering breath and grappled for clarity. She needed her wits and a solution to get out of this nightmare. Mind racing, unable to latch onto anything of value, she slowly shrugged out of her jacket.

As Malcolm reached for her coat, she jerked the garment back and whipped it against his gun hand. She sprang, shoving a shoulder against his chest. He stumbled back, both arms going up and outward for balance. She thought of going for the gun still in his hand, but at the last second changed her mind as the barrel swung her way. Instead, she pivoted and leaped around him toward the door and freedom.

She took two steps before Malcolm grabbed her from behind. He jerked her back against his chest by her hair. She cried out and frantically reached behind with both hands, grasping at air and little else. She heard the clatter of the gun and saw it fall only yards by her feet. Malcolm yanked harder, and tore hair from her scalp and another cry from her lips, as he twisted her around to face him.

For several agonizing seconds their ragged breathing filled the lab room. Blinking back tears of pain, she looked up at Malcolm’s savage expression.

“I should have known you’d put up a fight. Even a gun doesn’t stop you from acting up. Well, I’m done with your shit.”

Malcolm pulled back his arm and smashed his fist into her face. Pain slammed across every nerve ending and vibrated through bone and muscle. Blinding white light flashed across her vision. Then nothing.

Malcolm swore under his breath as he dragged Margot’s limp body across the floor. She was heavier than she looked, he realized in disgust. He propped her awkwardly up against one of the cabinets.

After unwrapping the syringe, he inserted the needle into the rubber cap of the vial and slowly withdrew Miracell into the syringe. When he emptied the vial, he pulled the needle from the stopper and tossed the vial on the floor. Finally, he pressed the syringe until a small, bulb formed on the needle’s tip.

Hunching down on one knee by Margot’s body, Malcolm paused as he looked down into her face. Thick black lashes contrasted with the cool marble of her skin, while those lips of hers, dusty rose, thick and sensual, made a man think of hot, raunchy sex. The first time he saw her and met those huge doe eyes of hers, he’d been stunned at her beauty. He’d wanted her, and set out to get her.

At first she hadn’t disappointed him, but then she’d wanted more of him—more than he’d been willing to give.

Enough. Abruptly he thrust aside any lingering fondness for Margot and memories of their short and disastrous relationship.

Sentiment would only weaken him.

He sank the needle through her skin by her inner elbow and watched as the liquid disappeared into her vein. She didn’t move, but then Malcolm hadn’t expected her to. He’d landed a pretty good right to her cheek. Even now the patch of broken blood vessels stained her skin into an ugly red.

She deserved it. Maybe she didn’t deserve getting injected with Miracell, but oh, well. Life wasn’t fair. He’d learned that even before he’d hit his teens.

When the last drop of Miracell emptied from the syringe, he withdrew the needle and watched a droplet of blood form in the hollow of her elbow. He thought about getting some gauze and taping it, but he didn’t feel charitable. And anyway, he didn’t have time to waste.

He’d love to hang around and watch Jake’s reaction and the following drama, but Malcolm valued his life. For the next several days, he’d find a safe place to hide. But he’d be back. And when he did, if Jake hadn’t figured a way to get the antidote together with Margot’s life at stake, Malcolm knew even a miracle wouldn’t work.

Either way, he needed to eliminate Jake and Margot and completely wipe clean any evidence of himself from the lab and house.

He tossed the syringe on the floor, and gave Margot one final pat to her bruised cheek. “See you around.” He chuckled at the irony. “Then again, maybe I won’t.”

The lab door slammed shut behind Jake.

He’d woken abruptly, unable to identify the cause, but something about the silence and Margot’s absence drove him from bed.

After seeing the lab’s light from the bedroom window, he’d dressed quickly and hurried through the bitterly cold night to investigate, all the while unease following his every step.

Moving deeper into the lab, he didn’t find anything odd. He took another step. That’s when he saw her. Unconscious and deathly pale, Margot sat slumped against one of the cabinets against the right wall.

When he rushed to her side, Jake immediately noticed an angry welt in varying shades of red and blue across her cheek. It looked as if she’d been punched by someone. Falling to his knees, he checked her pulse by her neck and found it erratic.

What the hell had happened?

Then he saw the syringe on the floor, the vial of...Miracell.

“No—”

Jake couldn’t believe it—didn’t want to believe it.

With shaking hands, he brushed Margot’s hair away from her cheek and brow. She didn’t stir. Her brown sweater, its sleeve bunched up to her upper arm, exposed her inner elbow and the line of congealing blood snaking from a puncture wound to her skin.

His stomach twisted. For a second he thought he might throw up.

Rising on unsteady legs, he fumbled around in the drawers for some antiseptic. He found a tube and several unopened packaged of square gauze. Clutching a corner of one package with his teeth, he tore off the top, spat the plastic out, and pulled the gauze from the package.

That’s when he saw the taped note. Dropping the gauze, he tore the paper from a top cabinet and stared at the scrawled words.

“Like my present? Maybe now you’ll get your ass in gear and finally discover the antidote.”

Malcolm. The sick bastard.

Hatred rolled through Jake. Malcolm once claimed Jake didn’t have it in him to kill, and Jake had agreed—until now. But now everything had changed. Jake would gladly step over that line. If they got through this alive, he’d go after Malcolm and seek total retribution.

First, he needed to focus on Margot, and only Margot. He could not allow his anger to impair his judgment. She needed him.

“Where’s Malcolm?”

At Margot’s husky whisper, Jake swiveled on his heel. She sat on the floor against the counter, cradling her injured arm in her lap. Her brown eyes stared back at him with a deep sadness, yet...her battered face held a stoic resignation. The expression cut at his heart. She knew exactly what Malcolm had done to her.

Crumpling the note in his hand, Jake found his voice. “I never saw him. You were alone when I came in.”

“I’m not surprised. Malcolm’s probably miles away now. He was always a coward.”

When Margot struggled to rise, Jake tossed the note on the counter and hunkered down by her. He placed a gentle but restraining hand on her shoulder. “Don’t get up. We need to take care of your arm.”

Margot collapsed and rested her head against the cabinet. After cleaning the blood from her skin, he rummaged through the drawers and cabinets until he found some roller gauze and a pair of scissors. He gently pressed the padded dressing against her wound and wrapped the gauze three times around her elbow. Then he cut off the excess tape and placed both items on the counter.

When he turned back around, he found Margot again struggling to her feet. Dismayed, Jake caught her by the elbow. She fell against him, wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head against his shoulder. He closed his eyes as the flowery scent of her hair washed over him, and for several minutes, he stood holding her, mired in guilt, feeling her slender frame tremble against him.

Jake wanted to tell her everything would be fine, that they’d work this out, but Margot didn’t deserve his lies. She’d never asked for any of this. And because of him, she now had Miracell running through her system.

“I’m sorry.” His apology sounded so useless, so hollow. “With what I now know, I would never have come here. I brought Malcolm with me. If only I’d made sure Malcolm couldn’t get out from behind bars, you’d be fine. And if I’d stopped you from going to the lab—”

“Don’t.” Margot stepped back and out of his embrace. She frowned up at him. “Don’t you dare start with ‘what ifs’. No one’s to blame but Malcolm.”

“But why? And why you? It doesn’t make sense.”

“To Malcolm it does. He thought with Miracell in my system, you’d have the motivation to come up with an antidote.”

“Why would he think that? I’ve worked day and night—every possible minute—and haven’t been able to do it.”

“You were getting to a point of not caring. Maybe Malcolm guessed that. I don’t know. All I know is that you were giving up.”

He clawed back his hair with one hand. “But I can’t do any more than I already have... Don’t you see that?”

“No.” Margot stared up at him, her gaze unwavering. “You can do more. I know you can.”

The enormity of Margot’s situation hit him again. Closing his eyes, he rubbed at the bridge of his nose and took in several rapid breaths. “I need to think.”

He was terrified. Until now, he really hadn’t known fear, not really. One wrong decision on his part, and he’d not only kill himself, he’d kill Margot. Just the pressure of knowing her life lay in his hands could easily distort his judgment.

Jake opened his eyes. The love and trust he saw in Margot’s face made him want to crawl into some dark, dank hole. He wasn’t worthy of either emotion.

“Who do you think I am? Some type of god?” he asked in stunned disbelief. He shook his head. “I’m not. I’m just a man.

Nothing more. I have as many strengths and weaknesses as the next one.”

“Yes, you’re a man. I know that. But to me you’re so much more,” Margot insisted. Her eyes misted with tears. “You’re the man I love. And if anyone can find the answer to Miracell, it’s you.”

Something inside of him cracked. “You’re putting too much faith in me.”

“If I don’t, then who will? You’ve lost all faith in yourself. That hope that’s kept you going for so long is no longer there in your heart.” She pressed her palm against his shirt and to the left of his chest. “I know that.”

His throat contracted. What could he say? Everything she said was true. Every damn thing.

Suddenly, her face leached of color, and her hand dropped from his shirt. She wavered on her feet as if a violent wind had hit her blindly from the side. Then she crumbled.

“Margot!”

Jake swept an arm around her waist before she landed on the floor. The unexpectedness of her weight pulled him off balance.

He stumbled, dropped to one knee but managed to hold her steady against his chest. Ever so careful, he slipped an arm around her shoulders. Her neck fell back against the crook of his elbow, exposing the long, white column of her throat. She lay in his arms, her complexion deathly pale and her thick, black lashes closed to the world.

She’d passed out.

Margot opened her eyes. She lay on her back in her bed with the covers pulled up to her chin. Dawn crept through the edges of the curtains and lit the room into a soft haze. For a moment she didn’t know what had happened or how she’d ended up here. Then memory flooded back, painful and far too vivid in its intensity.

She must have fainted, and Jake had carried her back to her room. Oh, how she wanted to go back and erase the moments when she had walked into the lab, Malcolm had followed her inside and...what he had done. She shut her eyes against the knowledge.

Margot saw the ceiling. Impossible. Hadn’t she just closed her eyes? She reopened them and saw the same ceiling. She did it two more times with no change. She could see the same thing with her eyes closed or opened.

Shock shoved her up into a sitting position. She lifted her hand. She couldn’t see it. There was her sweater, the same exact garment she’d worn earlier, but now there wasn’t anything at the end of the sleeve. Panic bubbled up into her chest as she looked harder for something—anything. She moved her palm back and forth.

Nothing.

Wait. There was something.

She detected movement, something indistinguishable but palpable. Almost like she saw through a pool of water or a distorted, magnifying glass where her hand should be. She brought her palm closer and extended her fingers. Yes. She wasn’t mistaken. There was a distinct change in the background directly behind her hand.

Malcolm had accomplished what he had set out to do. She’d become invisible. Hard to believe, but the evidence was undeniable and right in front of her or she should say rather not in front of her.

Amazing. She could go anywhere, do anything, slip in and out of a room undetected. The power of it was mind-boggling.

“Pretty amazing, isn’t it?”

Margot jerked in surprise and glanced over to where Jake’s voice had come from. Even though the chair against the wall sat empty, she knew he was there.

“How did you know what I was thinking—”

“Because I did the same after the initial shock.”

“Do you know what someone can do with this?” Margot asked in wonder, more to herself than anyone else.

“Oh, yeah. I know.” The wood floor creaked, and the bed sank down by her hip. The aroma of coffee and Jake’s scent, clean and male, drifted to her. “Miracles. But at the same time, that power holds a double-edged sword. In the wrong hands, it’s deadly.