Gina paused just outside the door of her father’s private office when she heard strange voices from inside and listened to make sure she wasn’t interrupting an important meeting. The door was cracked an inch, not enough to see into the room but enough to hear the conversation.
A conversation she couldn’t believe she was hearing. She dug ruts in her palms with her nails as she tried to contain her temper.
“Gina won’t like this,” her father said. “Getting her to agree to added security is never easy, but this . . .” His voice dropped. “She doesn’t know about the threats. I didn’t want to tell her everything.”
“Is that wise?” a male voice asked.
“No. Not with her temper. But she’ll just have to understand. I won’t take any chances now. Not after that last message.”
You won’t take any chances? Gina sucked in a breath through her teeth. This is my research.
“Do you have any idea who the outside source is, Mr. Xanacovich?” another male voice asked.
“I can’t imagine who would do something like this.”
“With Xanac Corp’s ties to the initial development of detectors,” the first man said, “it could be a Shifter terrorist group.”
Gina sucked in a silent breath. Shifters were an alien species of shape shifters native to Narava, and detectors were the only way to identify them when they weren’t in their natural forms. She still had mixed feelings about the part her family’s company had played in the development of detectors. Their research had lead to a number of advances, including a way to scan for a Naravan-based blood virus that had killed many Naravan’s over the years. But the DNA based scanning technique had also greatly advanced the development of detectors. While this meant Shifters couldn’t just be anywhere they wanted without humans knowing, it also meant they couldn’t hide from human fear.
According to government research, though in her opinion “research” was a very loose term for what they did at Shifter Research Center, Shifters were a dangerous, parasitic animal likely to wipe out the human population on Narava if not countered. Silly idea since humans had lived on Narava for fifty years before even knowing the Shifters existed. And even if they could potentially be dangerous to humans, the only species currently on the verge of being wiped out were the Shifters. The illogic of SRC’s arguments kept Gina from believing most of what they said, and she felt for the Shifters, being driven so close to extinction because of bad science.
Still, a huge portion of the population agreed with SRC. Most people were terrified knowing a Shifter could be in their home or next to them on the street without them knowing. So Shifter exterminations had been legally sanctioned.
But not everyone agreed with the government’s actions. A few small pockets of humans advocated an end to the exterminations and were brave enough to come out publicly in support of ending the slaughter, even knowing it was dangerous to take that stance. She hadn’t mustered up the courage yet, but she admired those who had.
Rumors had been flying over the last two weeks about the findings of an undercover Guard concerning Shifters and one of the Shifter support groups. Each side of the volatile argument assumed the Guard’s report would support their view—either to continue the exterminations or to end them. She was hoping for the latter.
“Xanac Corp.’s contribution to the development of detectors was minimal, and before my tenure as CEO. Why hit our R&D team now?” Her father’s voice was quiet, strained.
“To highlight their cause?” the first unfamiliar voice said. “To move interest away from this the rumored Guard report to a topic more immediate?”
Despite her growing anger at being left out of this important conversation, a conversation involving her research team, Gina found the timber of the stranger’s voice flowing like heady liquor through her blood stream. Whoever he was, she could listen to him talk for hours. He had the kind of deep, rhythmic voice that reminded her of dark nights, tangled, sweaty sheets, and murmured desires.
“That situation only started two weeks ago,” her father said, referring to the undercover Guard. “I’ve been getting threats for a month.”
“The threats are to get you to stop the work, so . . . something directly to do with the research then? And how it relates to the Shifters?”
Gina’s eyes widened. Had her father told the two men everything about her work? She ground her teeth together.
“No. This wasn’t done by anyone supporting the Shifters,” her father said, closing the subject with that obstinate “there will be no further discussion” tone that drove Gina nuts.
There was a pause, the silence heavy. She felt a vein throbbing in her temple. She tried relaxing her clenched fists. Calm, Gina. Just stay calm.
“Under the circumstances, it’s best if the regular security staff don’t know about you,” her father said, his voice authoritative but rushed.
“We understand, Mr. Xanacovich,” the first man said. “Discretion’s our specialty.”
Discretion? This was what her father called discretion? Hiring perfect strangers then telling them about her work? Keeping threats to her research a secret? She struggled to contain a string of Deven curses. She always turned to her mother’s native language when Naravan or Trade curses weren’t strong enough. She took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and tried one last time to reign in her legendary temper. This wasn’t the first time her father had gone behind her back to protect her. It was, however, the first time he’d kept the reason for his actions a secret.
She rolled her shoulders and focused on keeping her breathing steady. She would just walk quietly into the room, ask in a reasonable manner what her father was doing keeping these threats a secret from her. She could be calm and controlled when the situation called for it.
Unfortunately, this wasn’t one of those times.
She slammed the office door against the wall with enough force that it echoed as she stomped into the office.
“What the hell’s going on, Dad?”
Hands planted on hips, she took in her father’s two guests with a scowl. The one standing was tall and muscular, his long black hair pulled back in a low tail showing a face so handsomely chiselled it was almost unreal. His hazel eyes narrowed at the intrusion. She flashed him a narrow-eyed look in return and got a raised brow in response.
The other man sat in a chair in front of her father’s desk. She met a pair of deep blue eyes, and it took her a moment to remember to scowl. He wasn’t too handsome, not by a long shot. But he was very male. Tawny hair, strong features, wide shoulders, a heart-stopping mouth. A shiver of electricity skittered up her spine as her gaze locked on that mouth.
He’s the one with the sexy voice, she thought before she could stop herself, and her stomach muscles tightened in anticipation of hearing him speak through those deliciously captivating lips.
With a disgusted grunt, she pushed the physical reaction aside, calling up her anger. Now was not the time to worry about the faint smile curving the man’s tempting mouth, or her suspicion that he knew exactly what she’d been thinking.
“Well?” she directed her ire toward her father.
“Gina.” He straightened in his seat, emphasizing his height the way he did when he was nervous. “What are you doing here? I thought you’d still be at the labs.”
“Obviously. But I’m not the one who needs to answer questions. Why didn’t you tell me you were receiving threatening messages?”
“I didn’t want you to worry.” Her father raised his hands, palms out, trying to placate. Gina wasn’t in the mood.
“Worry me? I’m not worried! I’m pissed off. How dare anybody threaten you to get me to call off this research? You can just tell whoever it is to forget it. They think they can hurt me? I dare them to try.”
She didn’t miss that interesting mouth trying to suppress a grin. She just chose to ignore it.
“Honey, you don’t understand. These aren’t nice men we’re dealing with here. You can’t possibly—”
“And why not? I bet I’ve got as much hand-to-hand training as these two thugs you’re hiring.”
“It’s not a matter of training. Self-defense classes are not the same—”
“Self-defense classes? I’m a black belt in karate. I can handle myself, and you well know it.”
“All the training in the world can’t stop an unexpected blaster shot from ripping through you.” The deep, slightly amused comment came from the seated man. And she’d been right. His voice eased through her, tingling across her nerves, and settling into her bones. That voice could conquer worlds. But his comment spiked her already raging temper.
Gina turned her anger on him, but before she could launch into a satisfying tirade, her father spoke.
“I don’t care how much training you’ve had or how well you think you can take care of yourself,” he said. “That has nothing to do with this situation. Haven’t you noticed, damn it? You’re one of the brightest women I know, and you haven’t figured out yet that the others were not accidents?”
Not accidents? “What do you . . .” She stopped. For a moment, all she could do was stare at her father, anger dissipating beneath the shock of facts. Jesus, how could she have missed it? The rash of accidents in the last month, the injuries, the deaths . . .
Two of the original group, the only other two besides her and Jack Nevel who’d actually participated in the experiment, were dead. But Mira and Barry had died in a public link accident that killed fifteen people. The other accidents . . . Serious injuries, property damage . . . All members of her research team directly connected to the experiment.
Gina’s stomach flipped. It couldn’t be. She had to be wrong. There was no way the accidents could be anything other than an unfortunate set of coincidences. “What makes you think they weren’t accidents?” she demanded, not willing to believe without proof.
Her father sighed and signaled to the seated man. “Mr. Alexander.”
Gina watched warily as the man rose and handed her a messaging pad. She stared at the fist-sized screen, looked up at her father then pressed the pad to activate the recall. Five messages scrolled past, each one more graphic and threatening, each one very specific in relating the details of the events of the last month. They left no room for argument. Someone was attacking her team. As she numbly read the final letter, she realized it detailed first the death of Jack, then her own death. She swallowed hard and handed the pad back to the still looming Mr. Alexander.
“Jack?” Her voice echoed, hollow in her own ears.
“His body was found yesterday evening.”
Gina looked up into Mr. Alexander’s blue eyes without really seeing him. “And the M-SIDs?” She directed the question toward her father while still staring at the mercenary.
“There’s every reason to believe they disassembled when whoever’s doing this tried to extract them,” her father said.
“What reason?”
“The…the blood found with Jack’s . . . contained traces of the magnesium-iron-eltranium alloy released when the M-SIDs broke down.” Her father fell silent, then whispered, “Gina, Jack was tortured before they attempted to extract the micro-scanners.”
Gina’s world tilted sideways.