Chapter Fifteen

Alex fought the nurses when they tried to hold him down. He wasn’t a fool, he knew he wasn’t up to chasing Eve down the hall, he just wanted out of bed, so he could see.

It took a bit of effort but he finally swung his legs over the side and stood. His legs felt a little shaky and the tubes in his arms pulled at the skin as he dragged the IV stand with him to the window. He hoped he was on the right side of the building. He also hoped he wasn’t too late. Because he knew it would happen, and he needed to see it firsthand so when the time came he could give her a detailed description.

Bracing his hand against the window for support Alex breathed when he saw Eve’s car still parked across the street from the hospital. Then he saw her, she began crossing the street, as traffic sped by. She was being reckless, which meant she was scared. She didn’t care what the risks were, she just wanted to get away. He sucked in his breath when a white, two door hatchback nearly ran into her. She reached her car and flung open the door, getting a loud honk from a blue minivan that passed by. There was a brief pause and then her black sedan took off, cutting two cars off in the process.

Alex moved back to the bed, gaining approving nods from the nurses in the room. As he allowed the tubes in his arms to be adjusted he smiled to himself. Eve did the one thing that he told her not to do if she didn’t want to see him again—Eve jaywalked. His smiled deepened. Scared or not, the reason didn’t matter Eve would receive her punishment and he would enjoy every sweaty minute of it.

* * * *

From the main lobby of the hospital, Miles had watched as Eve Sinclair had darted across the busy street and opened her car door. He had waited in the lobby in the hope she would pass through. He wanted to talk to her again, see if he could get more background on her before he dug into her life—it would make his task that much faster if she could give him more places to look.

Unfortunately, he’d never got the opportunity. From the moment she had shot from the elevator, she’d pretty much flown through the lobby and out the main doors. There was no question she had been scared, but of what or who? It wasn’t him. He had hid in plain sight blending in with the crowds of people walking around. Curious, he had waited a few minutes to see if she was being followed and frowned when no one had come looking for her. What the hell had had her so scared?

His cell vibrated and he checked the number before answering it.

“Mike?”

“Got a positive return on the BMW.”

“Wait one,” he ordered into the phone and quickly moved out of the building and onto the sidewalk. “Go.” He walked down the street blending into the surrounding crowds.

“Caught on security cam eleven days ago.”

“Location?”

“Milley’s Eats. I sent the coordinates to your GPS.”

Watching for cars as he crossed the road, he inquired, “You’re sure it was ours?”

“Same colour, four-door, Wild Rose plates.” Miles didn’t expect Mike to rattle off the plate number, if this call was being scanned the people listening wouldn’t get much info. “It’s yours.”

“See the occupant?” Reaching his car he unlocked the door and slide inside.

“Nope, only the tail end of the car.” There was a pause. “How’s Ace, any progress?”

“No.” He tried to sound disheartened, but was getting tired of keeping up the appearance of a worried friend and partner. “Still the same.”

“Fuck.” Mike the unit Adviser, as he was called, sighed sadly. “I’ll contact you with any new Intel.”

“Roger.” Miles hung up the phone and reached for his GPS. The co-ordinates were flashing on the screen. He tapped the display to activate the search.

As he waited he started the car and pulled out of the parking lot. “Destination found,” the GPS announced. He grabbed the handheld unit and scowled. Guess he was taking a drive to Montcalm.

* * * *

Even though the drive to Memorial Hospital had taken over an hour—thanks to her delaying tactics—Eve was able to make it back to the house in half that time. Once back home she had only enough time to throw her purse on the counter, before she had to meet Noelle at her bus. Noelle was the most important part of her life. She came before everything, medians, patients, and even Alex. However, that fear of Alex following her was still twisting her stomach, growing stronger when she thought about Noelle. Would Alex hurt Noelle, or use her like before for some reason? If something was to happen to Noelle, she’d be lost. Her sweet, beautiful child was her saving grace, which she proved again by keeping Eve busy with stories from school. If it was any other night, the endless chatter would have driven her crazy, but tonight she was thankful for the distraction, as short as it was.

Once Noelle was in bed, she raced downstairs and locked all the windows and doors and set the alarm. Grabbing a knife from the butcher block and a rolling pin from the drawer, she headed to her office to finish her notes on the patients at Memorial. She pulled up the first chart and began to write her notes, finishing off with personal comments on each patient.

When Alex’s phony file came up she stopped in mid thought and just stared at his name. After everything that had happened today, how could she forget that she had faked his appointment on her schedule? The whole idea, was for her paperwork, patient files, and schedule she brought into the hospital to look valid. Of course everything was valid except the file on Alex. She blinked and focused on the screen. Alex had told her what to type into his file, and she knew it was all the truth because she couldn’t go into east wing with false information.

She knew his real name, which was Alex Hunter. He had told her his real date of birth, his height, weight,hair and eye colour, even the city he had been born in.

Leaning forward, Eve rested her chin in her hands. What was she going to do? She knew so much about him, information that he said not many people knew. She blinked and stared at Alex’s name on the screen. She knew personal information about a killer who had been trained by the government. And now he was in the body of a dead cop! If she went for help, the cops would believe one of their own, before they’d believe a crazy woman who claimed to merge souls. Oh yah! She couldn’t forget about Miles, another killer, who was probably right now checking to see if she was legitimate. If he found out she wasn’t legit, she almost certainly would have problems with him, and she hoped it would only be the cancellation of her contract with the government. “Oh my God,” she groaned. “I’m so screwed.”

Turning off her computer, she grabbed the knife and rolling pin and went to bed, cursing Alex the whole time. This was his fault, all his fault. It would never have happened if he had just stayed away. He had brought all this trouble with him, and now Noelle was in danger, her baby…baby.

Eve sat on the side of the bed. She had forgotten about the woman Alex was trying to save. Jillian. Alex had said she might as well shoot Jillian herself if she didn’t help him. She was pregnant. And she was alone, right now with a killer searching for her.

Shame pressed down onto her shoulders, and though she was alone, Eve was embarrassed. She was acting so selfishly, worrying about herself when Jillian must be in a constant state of fear, which wasn’t good, considering her condition. That poor girl was waiting for Alex to save her and she was waiting for Alex to…what?

What would he do? She placed the knife under her pillow, the rolling pin on the bedside table Alex used to sit against and slid under the covers. There was no way Alex would be jumping out of bed anytime soon. Though he was strong and was able to heal Cade’s wounds it would still have taken a toll. He needed to rest. She still had time. But time for what? She flicked off the light and rested back on the pillow, she lifted her arm above her head, automatically.

What could she do, run away? Alex would find her. She believed that now. There would be no safe place for her and Noelle to hide if Alex wanted to find them.

* * * *

After the trip to the window and back, Alex hadn’t been able to jump anywhere, let alone out of bed, until the next morning. He’d stared at the ceiling most of the night as the nurses and doctors had fussed over the new body he owned, checking vitals, taking blood samples, asking him a million questions. And just when he had thought it was over and he’d get some time to rest…in came the cops.

He was told about Justine’s death by an older, hard looking man, who he guessed was his ‘boss’. It was hard showing any type of grief towards his ‘wife’s’ death. He’d only known Justine when she had been dead, and though she was quite the smart mouth, she had also been very likeable. He also knew she was now with Cade and that both were happy. So he opted to keep his head down when he was given the bad news.

He silently listened to the condolences and the promises. They would catch the perp responsible for blowing the tyre of the old guy’s truck and he was ordered to take as much time as he needed to recover. Alex stiffened. “How did the tyre blow?”

Trevor, Cade’s partner, who had black eyes, a bald head and a red goatee looked to his boss and received a nod. “The delivery truck that hit you and Justine had blown a tyre. Stan, a veteran trucker, kept saying that he didn’t understand how that could have happened because he checks his truck daily and had been present when new tyres were installed just two weeks before. He kept on and on about something not being right with the tyres.” Trevor sighed. “He was so damn persistent that I did some digging. As it turns out Stan’s gut feeling was right. The lab checked the tyres and the air pressure had been lowered on the left side enough to cause the truck to become unstable but not enough for the driver to notice.”

Alex shook his head. “That wouldn’t be enough for a veteran driver to lose control.”

Trevor nodded. “Stan loads his truck at night for his deliveries the next day. All tether straps holding his loads in the back were eaten away.”

“Eaten away?”

Trevor nodded, his red eyebrows lowering over his black eyes. “That’s what they looked like. It was bizarre the lab tests came back with traces of a bunch of different organic chemicals but mainly—”

Salt. Alex thought.

“—salt.”

Trevor went into detail about the organic acid but it was a waste of time. Alex had used that classified compound to remove a few targets himself. He wasn’t familiar with all the chemicals used to create the lethal mix, but he did know it included acids found in nature, a heavy dose of salt acid and a few other things. He also knew that the company that had accidently created the concoction had been forced to close down by the government and all trace of the new organic acid had disappeared from the public’s eye. The blend wasn’t particularly affective on hard surfaces, such as metal but natural materials—the heavy woven cotton straps used to hold down cargo—the acid would eat through in a matter of hours. Ingestion of the acid was faster—only taking a single drop in a glass of water or on food to kill its victim—and because the mix was created from biological ingredients it dissolved in the body with little or no trace.

Alex felt his nostrils flare as he took a deep breath. Why the fuck would Miles kill Cade and Justine? What was happening here? First Miles had wanted to kill Jillian and then he’d killed Justine and put Cade, who was a cop of all things, in a coma. What the hell was the connection? If he didn’t know better he would say Miles was either panicking or enjoying the kill. Alex silently prayed that Miles was panicking, because if the Project found out he was enjoying the kill, Miles would be put on the list, with more than one team targeting him. And then he would never get his chance to hunt Miles himself.

Shit. And into the middle of all this, he had dragged Eve—he had put her in Mile’s line of sight, and knowing Miles, he probably already knew most of her background and where she lived.

Rubbing his face he murmured out loud, “What a fucking mess.”

Trevor gripped his shoulder, like a friend would and tried to comfort him. “We’ll get him, you just take it easy.”

His first instinct, when the cops had entered his room was to bin the job, he didn’t need someone or something getting in his way when he went hunting for Miles. He’d decided against it when they had proved how capable they were by tracing the acid. It had also helped when Trevor handed him a gun and badge. He almost grinned when he saw the two-tone Sig Sauer pistol sitting in his hand. Alex looked up at the man and nodded. His unit was taught to avoid all police forces. They were bound by different laws, defective laws. Yet, with the state he was in, he didn't have much choice. He’d take all the help he could get. Especially, if they were giving out free guns.

* * * *

Sitting on the side of the bed, Alex rested before he forced his new body to take another circuit of the room. His thoughts constantly turning to Eve.

Eve.

He squeezed his jaw when he remembered the fear in her eyes. At first, he’d wondered if it might have been his actions when the other souls responded to her calling. He had only acted so viciously because they’d wanted him to kill her. Something in him had snapped at the idea of anyone or anything hurting her. That’d been when things had become a little hazy, his vision had clouded over and his chest had burned. The glowing eyes and growl had probably been a bit of overkill, but the message had been received. He would not let any of them hurt Eve or take Cade’s empty body.

Flexing his muscles he stood once again and moved around the room, smelling antiseptic, and sickness. He swung his arms over his head and stretched. He felt good. Solid. Alive.

He moved to the bathroom again and looked at himself in the mirror. Cade’s body was in mint shape, a little more muscle mass in the upper body than he was used to, but he’d have no problems adapting. He was taller too, by about two inches, and his hair was a sandy blond and longer than he liked but not bad either. He ran a hand along the side of Cade’s head that still had hair. He needed to shave this off before he went anywhere.

Staring back at the face in the mirror he saw it again. He wasn’t sure if his mind was playing tricks or just plain wishful thinking, but he could see himself. Features that were distinctly his were becoming very apparent. The most obvious were his eyes, the colour and his old scar. He touched the deep scar above his left eye and noticed the bottom half of a tattoo on his right arm. He raised the sleeve of his white T-shirt.

“Holy shit!” he breathed, touching his unit’s insignia tattooed on his arm. He stared back into his own blue eyes, his mind processing the new Intel.

The scar he’d received from the man he had tracked down and killed for murdering his parents and the tattoo of his unit—both were unique to him. He rubbed the golden stubble on his face, paused then tugged up the hem of his white shirt and pulled it over his head. The cop’s body was well defined and was lightly tanned, different from his own. He spent the majority of his time out at night, when others were at their most vulnerable. Yet the golden torso that was now his, also held tell-tale evidence. Three round scars marked the chest he now owned. A reminder of a friend’s betrayal.