Scorpius Rising
Author: Rebecca Zanetti
Date: 2016-11-29 04:04:07+00:00
Keywords: Romance; Novella; Suspense; Action & Adventure; Paranormal Romance; Romantic Suspense; Paranormal; Post Apocalyptic; Adult; Fiction; Science Fiction; Dystopia; Military
Description: A scientist reunites with her soldier ex-husband to combat a deadly plague in the New York Times bestselling author’s romantic adventure novella. Microbiologist Nora Medina knows something is wrong when she gets yanked off a Hawaiian beach and onto her ex-husband’s government jet. Her marriage to Deacan Devlin McDougall had taught her plenty about adrenaline, and something more than their unfinished business that has brought the maddeningly sexy Scot back into her life. As a soldier of fortune, Deke has seen just about everything. But the terrifying bacterium sneaking through the highest halls
Publisher: Zebra Books

“ALL APOLOGIES, MA’AM, BUT OUR ORDERS ARE TO ESCORT YOU. PLEASE EMBARK.”

She swallowed. There were six of them, one of her, and no way would she win a physical altercation. “Not until you tell me where we’re going.”

“Nora?” a voice called from inside the plane. “Get your ass in here.”

Every nerve she owned short-circuited. Her gut clenched as if a fist had plowed into her solar plexus. Slowly, spraying water, she pivoted toward the opening. It couldn’t be. It really couldn’t be.

The voice she knew well. Male, low, slight Scottish brogue a decade in the States hadn’t quite banished. Her heart thundered, and fire skidded across her abdomen to flare deep. How was this even possible? She steeled her shoulders and approached the plane opening as if a bomb waited inside. So many thoughts rioted through her brain, she couldn’t grasp just one.

Warmth hit her first when she stepped inside, followed by another shock wave. “Deacan Devlin McDougall,” she murmured.

Books by Rebecca Zanetti

The Dark Protector Series

FATED
CLAIMED
TEMPTED
HUNTED
CONSUMED
PROVOKED
TWISTED
SHADOWED
TAMED
MARKED

The Realm Enforcers Series

WICKED RIDE
WICKED EDGE
WICKED BURN

The Scorpius Syndrome series

MERCURY STRIKING
SHADOW FALLING

Published by Kensington Publishing Corporation

SCORPIUS RISING

REBECCA ZANETTI

ZEBRA BOOKS
KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.

http://www.kensingtonbooks.com

All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.

ZEBRA BOOKS are published by

Kensington Publishing Corp.
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New York, NY 10018

Copyright © 2015 by Rebecca Zanetti

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

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Zebra and the Z logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.

First Edition: December 2016
eISBN-13: 978-1-4201-4489-5
eISBN-10: 1-4201-4489-8

Table of Contents

“ALL APOLOGIES, MA’AM,
Books by Rebecca Zanetti
Title Page
Copyright Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Justice Ascending Teaser
About the Author
Also in the Scoripus Syndrome Series

Scorpius Rising

Rebecca Zanetti

After all,
it really is all of humanity that is
under threat during a pandemic.

—MARGARET CHAN FUNG FU-CHUN,
Director-General of the
World Health Organization

Chapter One

Week 1

Eight people dead
Likelihood of Scorpius Containment: Definite

Extinction is the rule. Survival is the exception.

—CARL SAGAN

Wind whistled a mournful tune around aluminum buildings and across the jagged tarmac. Dr. Nora Medina shivered in the damp night air and ignored the water splashing over her flip-flops. The soldiers around her, armed to the nth degree, merely added to the pressure building in her chest.

Her nearly bare chest.

She fought to keep her balance while hustling up the metal steps to the third private plane of her day.

Enough.

She might be the only unarmed person on the quiet tarmac, and the only woman, but enough was fucking enough, because she was also the only person wearing a borrowed white blouse over a pink bikini top, barely-there wrap around her bikini-clad butt, and sandals.

Temper roared through her, and she planted her feet at the top of the stairs, only to slide across the wet surface.

“Ma’am,” said the nearest faceless soldier, reaching for her arm.

She jerked free and rounded on him. “I swear, if one more person calls me ‘ma’am’ or apologizes for the inconvenience of dragging me off a very nice beach in Maui several hours ago, I will take his gun and shoot him.”

The man’s expression didn’t change. “Yes, ma’am.”

She bit down a scream. “All right. Listen up. We are in Seattle, and I know we’re in Seattle.” She pressed her hands against chilled hips and tried to stand taller. “Do you know how I know?”

“No, ma’am.” Well trained, definitely at ease, the soldier kept his gaze above her right shoulder.

“I know,” she said slowly and through gritted teeth, “because I looked out the bloody window when we were landing. The next time you kidnap somebody, you might want to blacken out the windows.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He nodded, ever so slightly, toward the doorway to the plane.

“This is kidnapping, and I’ve had it. We’re in Seattle, and yep, guess what? I live here. So I’m going to head home, take an incredibly hot shower, change my clothes, and then call—well, somebody. Anybody who will tell me what the hell is going on.” Her rant would end perfectly if she could just get past him on the steps, but he easily blocked her way.

“All apologies, ma’am, but our orders are to escort you. Please embark.” He kept his voice level and polite.

She swallowed. There were six of them, one of her, and no way would she win a physical altercation. “Not until you tell me where we’re going.”

“Nora?” a voice called from inside the plane. “Get your ass in here.”

Every nerve she owned short-circuited. Her gut clenched as if a fist had plowed into her solar plexus. Slowly, spraying water, she pivoted toward the opening. It couldn’t be. It really couldn’t be.

The voice she knew well. Male, low, slight Scottish brogue a decade in the States hadn’t quite banished. Her heart thundered, and fire skidded across her abdomen to flare deep. How was this even possible? She steeled her shoulders and approached the plane opening as if a bomb waited inside. So many thoughts rioted through her brain, she couldn’t grasp just one.

Warmth hit her first when she stepped inside, followed by another shock wave. “Deacan Devlin McDougall,” she murmured.

He stretched to his feet from one of the luxurious leather chairs, standing in the aisle—the only place high enough to accommodate his six-foot-four frame.

All the thoughts zinging around her head stopped cold.

Nothing. Her brain fuzzed. The years had been good to him, experience adding an intriguing look of danger to his masculine beauty.

His green gaze, dark and piercing, scored her see-through shirt, light wrap, and bare legs. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for the extraction.”

Her chin lifted. Heat seared through her lungs, lifting her chest, and she slowly tried to control her body. No way would she let him see how difficult he made it for her to breathe—even after all this time.

He wore faded jeans over long legs and a dark T-shirt across a broad chest—no uniform. But the gun strapped to his leg was military issue, now wasn’t it? The weapon, so silent and deadly, appeared at home on his muscled thigh.

His dark brown hair, glinting with red highlights, now almost reached his shoulders. Very different from the buzz cut he’d had years before. His eyes, the green of a Scotland moor, held secrets, unplumbed depths, and promise. Chiseled face, hard jaw, and definite warrior features proudly proclaimed his ancestry, and even now, she could see the Highlander in him.

The door banged shut behind her, and she jumped.

He gestured toward the seat across from the one he’d occupied. The engines roared to life.

She faltered. “Where are we going?”

He reached into an overhead compartment and drew out a plush blanket. “D.C.”

The plane lurched forward, and she stumbled. He grasped her arm, shooting an electrical jolt up her bicep.

His eyes darkened. “I’d wondered.”

“Me too.” As kids, they’d been combustible. So she hadn’t imagined the spark from years ago. She blinked confusion from her vision and allowed him to settle her into the seat. The second he covered her legs with the warm blanket, she finally took a deep breath.

He sat down, gaze somber. “You haven’t responded to my proposition.”

Her head jerked back. “This isn’t, I mean, you—” She gestured around the luxurious plane.

His lips twitched. “No. I did not execute a military extraction and secure three private jets to force you into making up your mind to meet me in person now that I’m settled in the States. Finally.”

She plucked at a string on the blanket. “I didn’t think so.” They’d kept in touch through the years, and when he’d sent her an email two months ago, saying he wanted to meet up with her, she’d needed time to think about it. “I was hoping to use my vacation time in Hawaii to consider, well, us.”

Thoughtfulness, sexy and focused, crossed his rugged cheekbones. “I appreciate that. I’ve been wondering lately if I should’ve fought the divorce.”

Fought it eight years ago? Surprise and a silly feminine hope flushed through her. They’d been married at eighteen and divorced at twenty-five. They’d spent more time apart than together during the marriage with him in the military and her pursuing various degrees. “We were just kids.” The plane lifted in the air, and she tried to relax against the leather. “You said you work for the government now, Deacan.”

“I do.” He tugged a table from the wall and secured the legs.

“Which branch?” she asked softly. What in the hell was going on?

He reached into a duffel bag to retrieve a laptop. “Doesn’t have a name.”

Yeah, she’d figured. Supersecret, code-name, hidden organization. “In your email, you said you had your head on straight and had finished your time as a soldier.”

He placed the laptop on the table to their right, facing them. “I do. I work in the States and for the most part invent strategy and the like. No more violence, and I’ve dealt with the anger.”

She nodded, her body rioting at his nearness. The gun strapped to his leg hinted at another agenda, and she needed time away from him to really figure out if she wanted him in her life again—even as a friend. Leaving him before had nearly destroyed her, and she’d built a good life in Seattle. A safe life. Okay, a boring life. “Why am I here?”

His very presence affected the oxygen, because her lungs quit working properly. He smiled, as if knowing, and waited until the laptop came on. “You’re here because of this.”

She leaned toward him and turned to the side to see a picture of a round blue shape covered by long spikes. Definitely a bacterium. “Coccus shape, mobile, looks a little like Staphylococcus.” She frowned and squinted. “I don’t recognize it, though.”

Deke exhaled, and impressive muscles shifted beneath his shirt. “No. It’s new.”

She blinked. “New?” Fascinating, but not unusual. Her heart started to thrum harder. “What’s the rate of growth?”

“It duplicates in an hour.”

Fast, but not unheard of. She leaned back. “What’s going on, Deacan?”

He scrubbed both hands down his face. “You’re the best microbiologist in the country.”

She bit back a snort. “Lynne Harmony would disagree with you.”

He nodded. “Perhaps. It’s probably a tie between you.”

Now wasn’t the time to discuss Nora’s best friend from graduate school. “Why am I here, and why are you here? It’s no coincidence.” If the bacteria had been weaponized, then the CDC would be on it. “I work for a private company, not the government, and this isn’t one of our samples or, ah, mutations.”

“I know you work for a private company. Of course.”

Yeah, she made her own schedule and only worked on projects she believed in. The government wouldn’t allow her such freedom. Plus, the money was much better. “You know I don’t trust the government.”

“I do know.” Deke punched a couple of keys, obviously unwilling to debate the issue. A picture of a rock came up on the screen.

“Looks like a meteorite,” Nora said slowly.

“Aye.”

Her brain clicked into gear as her mind connected a pathway from the bacteria to the meteorite. “No way. Really?”

“Yes. A group of twelve Stanford students took a field trip to the southern Nevada desert to go meteorite hunting, which is actually quite an industry out there. They found a good ten pounder and cut into it, each taking a piece. Apparently bacteria spores were let loose.” He shook his head. “Can you believe it? Bacteria from outer space.”

She glanced at the innocent-looking rock. “Well, yeah. I mean, NASA has been worried for years that we’re sending bacteria into space with each shuttle mission, and we’ve actually tested bacteria that survives in the outer atmosphere.”

He cut a hard look at the screen as if facing an enemy. “But from space.”

She grinned. “Our entire planet was formed by materials from outer space. The bacteria on earth came from galaxies away when our planet formed. This isn’t a surprise.” She sobered. “That little blob might be the find of the century, but I wouldn’t be here unless something else is going on.”

He shut the laptop and faced her. “The students each took a piece of the rock, and all came down with fevers. Initially E. coli was suspected because they ate a box of doughnuts that morning, but the locality of the infection was in the brain, so anything abdominal was quickly ruled out.”

“You want my research.” For five years, she’d worked for BioGlax Pharmaceuticals, trying to create an antibiotic for drug-resistant bacteria. “Why isn’t the CDC on this?” If her phone wasn’t still in Maui, she’d call Lynne and ask that very question.

“They are. The head of the CDC National Center for Emerging and Zoonotic Infectious Diseases, your good buddy, Lynne Harmony, requested your help,” Deacan said. “I offered to meet your plane and get you up to speed.”

“What?” Nora shook her head. Not only would Lynne never ask for help, she’d call herself and not have the military hijack Nora’s vacation. “Lynne would’ve called me. We usually talk at least once a month.” But they’d both been busy, and they hadn’t talked in maybe, what? Two months?

“I have the CDC team locked down. No communications out or in.”

Nora blinked. “You can’t do that.”

“I can and have.” Deke cocked his head to the side, all patience.

Awareness cascaded through her, and the hair on the back of her neck lifted. “Exactly who do you answer to, Deacan?”

He lifted a shoulder.

“Deke?” she snapped.

He sighed. “The president. But that’s just between us, darlin’.”

Anxiety filled her abdomen. “The president. The actual president?”

Deke sighed. “Yes. Two years ago, after he’d been elected, I was on detail for a foreign trip. It went south, I saved his ass, and we had one of those foxhole situations that’s top secret. Became buddies of a sort, and I’ve been working with him since—trying to move into more of a strategy and planning position instead of shooting and killing.”

Emotion colored his words, although his expression remained stoic. For years, she’d wondered if his humanity would succumb to his need for action and adventure. She’d be crazy to get caught up in his world again. But she’d worry about Deke and his employment later, once she figured out why her vacation had been cut short. “All right. What happened to the students?” Something told her she didn’t really want to know the answer.

Deacan kept her gaze captive. “All twelve were hospitalized, infected with the Scorpius bacteria.”

She frowned. “Scorpius?”

“Yes. The meteorite was probably one of many that fell last year after the Scorpius Comet passed by the earth, hence the name. We had to call it something. Damn bug.”

“Not a bug. Bacteria is different.” Her brain spun. “The bacteria is airborne?”

“No. The kids all took a taste of the rock. A five senses type of thing.” He shook his head. “Tasted salty, apparently.”

Breath whooshed from her lungs. “That’s unfortunate, but I’m glad the infectious agent isn’t airborne.” Of course, neither was Ebola, E. coli, or meningitis. “Give me the rest of the facts.”

He sobered. “One student seems to have recovered fully. Nine died. Two are experiencing what can only be termed a psychotic break.”

Holy shit. “Nine died? Scorpius killed that high of a percentage of infected?” Unbelievable. She calculated the statistics. “I’m assuming you have medical and historical profiles for each of the students?”

“Yes.”

Sand, salt, and oil covered her arms, making them itch. She rubbed her elbows, hunching into herself. “The two survivors with mental issues. Any other symptoms?”

“Odd brain scans and low activity in the frontal lobe,” Deke answered.

Nora frowned. “All right. How far has the infection spread?”

He lifted dark eyebrows. “Why do you think it has spread?”

She leaned her head back against the headrest. “You wouldn’t call in a second team unless we were facing a pandemic. How many?”

“Not many.”

She studied him. He’d always been tough, but as he’d shed the look of youth, he’d gained a masculine hardness with an edge. Sexy and dangerous. Intriguing enough that her instincts yelled for her to stay away from him while her heart dared her to jump right into his fire. “What’s the urgency?”

Deacan leaned toward her, bringing the scent of wild forest and man. “The survivors continue to carry the bacteria.”

Nora blinked. “You mean they’re still contagious after surviving? That’s unheard of.”

“Yes. Trace amounts of the bacteria have been found in their saliva. If they bite and break the skin, well . . .”

“Are you sure?” Finding a cure was crucial, although many people were carriers of deadly bacteria, like MRSA, and they rarely infected people.

“Yes.” Deacan leaned even closer. “One of the infected students is the president’s daughter.”

Nora stilled. “One of the survivors?”

“One of the two experiencing what seems to be schizophrenia. Maybe.”

She breathed out. “Oh.”

Deacan gripped her knees through the blanket. “It gets worse.”

She shook her head. “No.”

“Aye. She bit the president. He’s fighting the fever right now.”

Chapter Two

Deke finished showing Nora around her new digs in D.C. just as dawn broke. For now, the government had taken over a nice condominium high-rise a block from the Washington, D.C. office of the CDC, which normally dealt with policy issues. “We’ve created an emergency command post in the D.C. office of the CDC, and we’ve commandeered a new building with secured lab space for your research, as well as this condominium building,” Deke said.

Nora shook her head. “This is serious, Deke. We should be at CDC headquarters in Atlanta.”

“No. We need the experts here, close to the president, so we transferred Lynne Harmony’s entire team from Atlanta for now. Her apartment is one floor up.”

Nora whirled on him. Brown eyes, brown hair, fiery temper. A woman born in Argentina with the mind of a statistician and the body of a goddess. “I do not work for the government, Deacan.”

God, he’d missed her.

For now, he had her exactly where he wanted her, and he intended to make good use of his time.

She somehow glared harder.

His lips tickled, and he bit back a smile. “You’re going to get a migraine if you don’t relax your shoulders.” Did she still get migraines? He hoped not. One time she’d been in so much pain, he’d wanted to knock her out until it passed.

“Fuck you,” she said quietly but with impressive authority.

He let the grin loose. “When did you start swearing?”

She lifted an eyebrow. “Graduate school. I’d ask when you turned into such an asshole, but I already know the answer.”

He lost the smile. Yeah, she knew exactly when he’d turned into a dick. “I’m sorry,” he said.

Her eyes widened. “Huh?”

He’d never apologized, now had he? “I said that I’m sorry. Sorry I left you for war when you were only eighteen and returned so fuckin’ damaged. Sorry I was a jerk to live with.” He leaned back against her closed door, his gaze remaining steady. “More sorry I let you go when I did.” Although she’d done well without him.

She blinked. “You’re forgiven. Now you should leave.”

Quick, wasn’t she? Yet she didn’t hide her emotions any better now than she had in the past. “I’m not forgiven.”

“You are,” she whispered, crossing her arms. “We were young, and it was a long time ago.”

Yeah. Eight years seemed like an eternity. “I have somebody in Seattle packing you several bags of clothes, and I have extraction teams rounding up your team from BioGlax Pharmaceuticals.”

Her shoulders straightened in pure defiance. “I would like clothes, but for now, I need to call my team and provide an explanation. The guys with guns will scare them.” She dropped her chin, and her fingers played with a string from the small white top.

He shoved down a groan, remembering full well how those fingers had felt wrapped around him. “Sorry—no calls about Scorpius. We have the building blanketed and are monitoring every call.”

Anger heightened her high cheekbones. “You can’t do that. The government can’t do that.”

“Yet we have.” He’d been entranced by her naiveté from day one. That and her serious side. The woman couldn’t relax unless seriously wrestled to the ground. One of the highlights of their marriage had been his taking her down and exploring how to play and just have fun. Who lightened her load now? “You seeing anybody?”

Her mouth dropped open and then shut just as quickly. “You’re joking.”

“No.” He wasn’t. Not even close.

Her chin lifted. “None of your business.”

“You’re my wife. It is my business.” The words escaped in a full-on Scottish brogue before he could think twice.

“We’ve been divorced for years.” Bright red spiraled through her high cheekbones, and educated precision clipped her diction. Her brains, her sheer intelligence, had intimidated him once.

Now they impressed the hell out of him. “The second I saw you, I forgot about the divorce.”

Her eyes flashed. “That’s why we haven’t been in the same state for eight years.”

Actually, he’d been across seas, then dealing with the aftermath in his brain. Now, after years of working through the hell, he was calm. Settled. Alone. And alone, without her, was the last thing he wanted to be. “I’ve changed.”

“I haven’t.”

“Good,” he whispered.

She blinked, and a cute frown wrinkled between her brows. “We’re not doing this right now. Leave, Deacan.”

She was the only person in the world who’d ever used his full name, and the second she slipped back into using it, his world righted itself. Until that very moment, he hadn’t realized he’d been off. “You want me to leave?” he asked.

Her stubborn chin lifted again. “Yes.” Then she waited, daring him. Definitely daring him.

This was the most fun he’d had in years. “Fine. I’ll make you a deal.”

Her lip curled. “No deal.”

He shrugged. “I could stay all night or put you under guard. Work with me.”

She hissed and pressed both hands to her curvy hips. “You’re going to blackmail me?”

He wouldn’t, but besides anger, he could see something else in the eyes that still haunted him late at night. Interest. Definite interest. “Yeah. One dinner. You and me.”

While he’d deny it to his grave, he held his breath as he waited for her answer.

Curiosity. Deep and glimmering, her eyes were full of questions. “Why?”

Why indeed. “I want to know you again.”

Her head jerked.

Yep. She’d never expected the direct approach—not with her crappy childhood. Her mom had died when she was a toddler, and her father, a genius statistician with a definite antigovernmental agenda, had moved her to the States to be raised by a nanny. Not horrible, but not with much warmth.

She’d never been able to turn away from warmth.

His heart beat faster. So close. Finally. So close to her. He smiled and tried to appear harmless. “One dinner, and you’re free.” They’d always been too different, but he’d thought that his new job, new life, would be soothing to her. Well, before Scorpius had risen.

She rubbed her nose, her body visibly relaxing. “One dinner tonight—just to catch up.”

“One dinner and one kiss.”

She breathed out. “No kiss.”

“Just one.” He opened the door. “Unless you’re afraid.”

She scoffed.

His lungs compressed. Years ago, the woman could never resist a challenge. Hopefully she hadn’t changed.

She hovered, for the slightest of moments, obviously fighting the impish side of herself. Her head went back. The devil lit her smile, she glided toward him, stood up on her toes, and brushed her lips across his.

Heat flashed into his belly so fast his vision narrowed in focus. To one woman and one moment. “That wasn’t a kiss.” His voice lowered to a huskiness he couldn’t hide.

Her head tilted in a flirty move he remembered well. “Oh?”

Yeah. He’d forgotten. Actually forgotten how easily she could tempt him and how much the woman liked to play with fire. Even as the thought spun through his head, he moved.

His hands clamped her upper arms, and he dragged her into him. Her gasp breathed heat against his lips. The second her body slid against him, his cock tried to punch through his zipper. Yet he fought his natural inclination and slowly, so damn slowly it hurt, lowered his face to hers.

Then he forgot slow.

His lips covered hers, and he drove his tongue inside, swallowing her instant moan. Fire. Lava heated his blood, burning his nerves, lighting everything he was on fire.

He’d forgotten. How, he’d never know. But he’d forgotten the burn.

The incredible, unreal, so fucking deep shot of raw electricity only she could create. Even as he kissed her, bending her back, taking so hard, anger tried to claim hold. Fury at her for taking away this. This feeling nobody else on earth could actually experience. The feeling of them.

He tangled his fingers in her hair and twisted, tugging her head back so he could go deeper. His other arm banded around her waist and lifted. Her legs wrapped around his hips, her body gyrated against him, and her mouth filled his with soft little gasps. The male inside him, the one full of instinct with no intellect, roared for him to take. To yank off her clothes and spread her out on the floor. To feast for hours.

Her fingers curled into his chest, digging through his shirt, nearly unleashing everything inside him he’d tried so fucking hard to tame.

He jerked his head back, his chest panting.

Stunning. Her eyes had darkened further, glowing with hunger. Her lips shone red and tempting. She sucked in air. “No,” she whispered.

“Why not?” he asked, already knowing the answer. When they’d been together, they’d been raw. Real. When they had ended, he’d been nothing. Had she lost herself, too?

She shook her head and released his shirt. “I can’t do it again.”

Yeah. He got that. Relying on training, sucking deep to remember who he’d become, he let her slide to the floor. Then he took a step back. He didn’t know how to be coy, and he didn’t have time for games. Plus, the woman deserved the truth and always had. “I want another chance, Nora.” If for no other reason than to get her out of his fucking blood for good. Out of his dreams.

She blinked, her eyes widened, and she tried to step back, but the wall held her in place. “Absolutely not.”

He respected her, and he’d walk away if she insisted. But too many emotions glimmered in her eyes. Anger. Fear. Denial. Beyond those, beyond the gates keeping him out, he saw something else. Desire. Yeah. It was there. So he smiled and stepped away. “We’ll discuss it over dinner tonight, after what’ll probably be a long day at work for us both. My place—right next to yours down the hallway. You bring the wine.”

An hour after meeting with her bewildered team and being ferreted to the CDC, Nora strode into Lynne’s temporary office in the D.C. location. “Your jeans are too tight on me,” Nora groused.

“Nora.” Lynne dropped a stack of papers onto her disaster of a desk, hustling around to give Nora a hug. “I’m sorry about the secrecy—I tried to call you.” She leaned back, light green eyes warm but marred by dark circles beneath them. “They took our phones. I had to leave Dean Winchester with a neighbor.”

“You are way too attached to that cat.” Nora forced a smile and studied her best friend. Lynne had piled her curly dark hair up on her head, revealing a graceful neck and very pale skin. At five-six, they were about the same height, but Lynne was definitely more slender. “You look exhausted.”

Lynne laughed. “I am.” She tucked her arm through Nora’s and pulled her from the room. “The jeans and shirt fit you fine. I’ve heard your ex is running the military side of this for the president, but I haven’t met the Scottish bastard yet. Have you seen him?”

“Aye,” Nora said in an imitation of his brogue. “Bossy as ever.”

Lynne tugged her closer. “Sexy as ever?”

“Yes.” Nora sighed. “Definitely bad boy to the bone.”

Lynne sniffed. “Very bad. Doesn’t care about the Constitution at all.”

“I know, right?” Nora stiffened her shoulders. “My team just arrived, and they are not happy.”

“None of us are happy.” Lynne halted as Zach Barter loped around the corner, blond hair ruffled, tie askew.

He stopped, and his eyes bugged out. “Dr. Harmony. The Dr. Harmony.”

Nora rolled her eyes. “Lynne, this is my assistant, Dr. Zach Barter. He’s, ah, heard of you.”

Zach shoved wire-rimmed glasses back up his nose. “I’ve read the paper you published last month about sequencing bacterial DNA. Twice.”

“Twice.” Lynne lifted an eyebrow. “That’s nice.”

Amusement bubbled up through Nora. “Actually, considering Zach has an eidetic memory, twice is quite the compliment.”

Lynne smiled. “It’s nice to meet you in person, Dr. Barter, although you refused my job offer a year ago.”

Zach flushed a deep red across his clean-shaven face. “I went where the money was, Doctor. I’m a whore.”

Lynne threw back her head and laughed, tightening her hold on Nora. “So is my best friend. Thank goodness she lets me borrow her fancy shoes when necessary.” She launched into movement again. “We’re heading to the main lab to look at the bacterium up close. Want to join us?”

“Well, sure. I’m not much of a lab guy and usually deal with the methodology. Not a big fan of the icky stuff.” Zach pivoted and fell into step. “I’ve been studying the medical histories of the two students fighting what your doctors misdiagnosed as schizophrenia.”

“Stop saying icky.” Nora bit back a smile. “Zach. Gentle talk here about other doctors.”

He squinted blue eyes through the glasses. “That was gentle.”

Lynne sighed. “Geniuses.”

“Yep.” Nora glanced at her best friend as they wound through long hallways. Soon red and yellow biohazard signs became visible and then lined the way. “Aren’t we geniuses?”

“Not like I am,” Zach said without a hint of ego.

True. Nora nodded. “What’s the correct diagnosis for the two surviving students who have changed behaviorally, oh brilliant one?”

He scratched his head and tripped over something on the smooth white tile. “Damage to the frontal cortex, I suspect. Scans show a decrease in activity but no physical abnormalities. Emotional changes and lack of empathy are the biggest indicators.”

Nora lifted her head. “Did either of the students exhibit sociopathic tendencies before being infected?”

“Not that we’ve found,” Lynne answered tersely. “We’re just starting to get a handle on this, and I’ve even been studying up on the oxytocin receptor gene, even though it deals with aggressive behavior more so than empathy.”

“Huh.” Nora glanced into a pristine lab with advanced security measures. A red Biohazard Level 4 designation was displayed above one window. “I can’t believe I’m being allowed to play in Lynne Harmony’s lab.”

“Just don’t break anything,” Lynne retorted.

A tech wearing a pristine white lab coat dodged around the opposite corner, blond hair swinging. “Dr. Harmony, here are the newest results.” She handed over a stack of papers.

“Hi,” Zach said.

“Bobbi, Zach,” Lynne said absently.

Zach gave what could only be described as a half bow to the blue-eyed blonde smiling at him.

Nora bit back a grin. He was a dork, but a handsome one.

Bobbi batted long eyelashes. “Zach Barter? I read your dissertation for one of my advanced classes last year.”

Zach’s chest puffed out. “Just once?”

“No,” the young woman scoffed, “about ten times.”

Zach grinned.

Lynne cleared her throat. “Back to work, everybody.” She turned and swiped a key card.

“See you later, Zach,” Bobbi called out as they entered the first secured area.

“Romeo,” Nora muttered, throwing him an elbow.

“Let’s suit up.” He grinned. “I don’t usually get to say that.”

Nora turned to make sure she had his attention. “You’re not accustomed to lab work, but you’re excellent, so we need you. Be careful, and if you have any qualms, don’t do it.”

He nodded.

Thirty minutes later, after suiting up in protective gear and checking each other’s suits for rips or tears, they finally entered the lab. Machinery lined the outside counters, and the far wall held cages full of mice. Pipes hissed, and electrical machinery hummed. Nora settled into the familiar sounds.

Lynne maneuvered to a small fridge and pulled out a series of vials. “I’ve tried treating Scorpius with all known antibiotics.”

“It’s resistant,” Nora murmured.

“Yep. The outer protein shell is incredibly strong and resilient. So far, we haven’t been able to completely breach it.” Lynne set the vials on the counter and pointed to one with a clear, blue liquid. “I’ve tried everything from adding genetic material to adding chemicals to just yelling at the damn stuff.”

Nora smiled. “That’s a pretty blue color.”

“Yes. I bombarded a sample with radiation and damaged its DNA. Well, I altered its DNA, and then I treated it with a combination of zinc and B12 by incorporating a catalyst of titanium oxide,” Lynne said.

Nora hummed. “Interesting. A mineral and vitamin known to deal with brain function. Lynne, that’s brilliant.”

“Only if it works. So far, this just looks pretty. I’m hopeful we’ll figure out something useful in it, and I’m very hopeful with the vitamin B.” Lynne pointed to a dark green vial. “Now this one, this one is scary as hell. Another radiated sample combined with Staph, injected with a cocktail of catalysts, and it could be lethal within minutes.” She stepped closer to a keyboard and brought up a computer simulation. “This is how the green interacts with human tissue.”

She showed the bacterium at a minute level, increasing exponentially and shooting green across healthy cells, creating deadly toxins.

“What the heck?” Zach breathed, stepping closer.

Lynne nodded. “The green multiplies so quickly it could conceivably cause death within minutes.”

Nora stepped back and fogged up her mask. “That rate is crazy. Wow. Bad bacterial alteration. Horrible.”

“Yes. The alteration made the bacteria even deadlier.” Lynne drew in air and turned around, her eyes oddly glowing in the mask. “Who knows what it could do inside the human body.”

A chill skittered down Nora’s back. “Does the military know?”

“Yes.” Lynne leaned closer to whisper. “Once we find a cure, we’ll destroy these altered strains as soon as possible. For now, we need to keep everything we have just in case there’s a clue here to stopping the contagion.”

Nora nodded and gulped. “Good.” She and Deacan had always disagreed about the military role in scientific discovery, and now, more than ever, she could see the chasm between them. “What happens if you combine the green and the blue?”

Lynne’s eyes lit up. “The blue slows the rate but not enough. I think a possible solution lies within some mixture of the two. I knew you’d figure that out right away.”

Nora smiled. “I was the top student at grad school.”

“Second top,” Lynne retorted.

“Whatever. Well, we should probably get to work.” Nora had developed several new possible antibiotics in the last few years and couldn’t wait to give them a shot against Scorpius. “I assume I’m here to incorporate our new studies with nanoparticles and their ability to evade the immune system?”

“Yes.” Lynne pointed to a laptop on a counter. “We’ve had your entire database transferred here.” Beneath the mask, she blushed. “Darn government.”

Nora sighed. “Fair enough. Let’s see if we can get nanoparticles to zero in on Scorpius and its outer shell.”

Lynne tapped her face mask. “Are you still working on wrapping nanoparticles in red blood cell membranes to remove toxins from the body?”

“Yes. If we can neutralize toxins produced by certain bacteria, we have a chance.” Nora rolled her shoulders, accustoming herself to the biohazard suit. “The nanosponges kill the cells by poking holes in them, but each bacteria has a different structure, so I have no clue how it’ll work with Scorpius.”

“There’s only one way to find out.” Zach headed for the far counter. “Let’s kill this sucker.”

They worked through lunch and well into the afternoon, country music playing throughout the lab. In test after test after test, Scorpius won, although Nora’s main experiments with the nanoparticles would take twelve to thirty hours to complete.

There had to be a way to curb the bacteria.

A knock on the glass door made Nora jump. She turned to see Bobbi holding a cardboard box of sandwiches. As if on cue, her stomach growled.

Zach leaned back against the counter and gave Bobbi a half salute. “My hero,” he mouthed.

Nora tried to keep from rolling her eyes. He really was a goofball.

Bobbi twittered and winked at him. “Come and get it,” she mouthed back.

Geez. Enough with the sexual innuendo.

Zach turned to finish up, and a quick clatter startled Nora out of her thoughts. She instantly focused on him.

“Damn it,” Zach muttered, hustling across the lab and ripping off his glove.

Panic heated up Nora’s throat, and she ran toward him. “What happened? Did you puncture?” The idiot had been flirting and not paying attention. God, had he infected himself?

He finished tearing off the glove and shoved his hand under a faucet.

Red welled beneath the knuckle of his left thumb.

Nora scrambled for disinfecting liquid to pour over the wound and glanced toward his station. “What was it?” she breathed.

“Original Scorpius strain. No mutations,” he bit out, rubbing vigorously.

Shit. He’d punctured his own skin. Nora’s gaze met Lynne’s somber one.

Lynne nodded. “Zach? We need to get you to the infirmary. If you infected yourself, the fever will start within an hour.”

Chapter Three

After a full day of monitoring the spread of outbreaks, Deke leaned back in his chair and eyed the president’s chief of staff over the man’s sprawling mahogany desk. They’d shut the doors, and quiet reigned for the briefest of moments inside the West Wing. “What happens now?”

George Ellis rubbed a bruised hand over his bald head. “Nothing for now. We’re covering for the president, and as soon as his fever breaks, everything will be fine.” Almost sixty years old, the stately politician filled out his expertly cut suit like he ran five miles a day, which he did. His eyes were a deep brown, his skin a shade darker, and intelligence all but emanated from him. “The fever has lasted longer with him than with the students, but he’s only fifty-five and in great shape.”

Deke exhaled. “Even so, fifty-five is different from twenty years old, like it or not. He’s older and it’s not unrealistic to believe it’ll take him a little longer to fight off the infection.”

“Don’t tell him that when he’s better.”

“What happened to your hand, sir?” Deke asked quietly.

George winced. “I ducked when I should’ve dodged, practicing with Secret Service agents earlier.”

Deke smiled. “I’m glad you took my advice about additional training.”

George glanced at his hand. “I’m not.” He flexed his fingers and winced. “The president’s fever is at one hundred and four, so I’m thinking it’ll break soon.”

Deke swirled the brandy snifter. “We’re going to scan his brain, right?”

“Yes.” George took a deep swallow of his drink. “If he protests, we have a problem.”

“He won’t.” Deke knew his friend, and he’d want to make sure his brain still functioned normally before continuing to lead the country. Of course, if his brain wasn’t functioning, he might not agree. “How’s Sally?” The president would want to know his daughter was doing better when he awoke.

George shook his head. “Not good. We’re keeping her contained in the residence, and she’s quieted. Is claiming she’s better, but . . .”

Deke lifted an eyebrow. “But?”

“She doesn’t seem right.” George rubbed his chest. “I’ve known that girl since she was two years old, and now there’s a different light in her eye. One I don’t recognize—or like.”

Bloody hell. So much for Sally’s brain kicking back into normal. “We’ll find a cure, I’m sure of it.” Yet nothing was coming close. He’d checked in with Nora through the day, and so far, Scorpius was invincible.

George nodded. “I know.” His gaze sharpened. “Just in case, I have the vice president under tight security.”

Deke grimaced. “How’s he feeling after the heart attack last month?”

“Not good.” George rubbed his chin. “I’m glad we kept it quiet.”

The government kept a lot quiet, but Deke was okay with that. For now. He lifted an eyebrow. “I hate to sound cold, but who’s third in line? Just in case? Is it you?”

George’s eyes widened. “Hell, no. How can you not know the order of succession?”

Deke shrugged. “Don’t really give a damn until it matters to my job.”

George shook his head. “Third in line is the Speaker of the House.”

“A politician?” Deke winced.

“We’re all politicians, jackass.”

Deke snorted a laugh. “Oh yeah. I forgot.”

George studied him like a hawk searching for dinner. “You’ve seemed more at ease since the crisis started than you’ve been all last year.”

“How so?” Deke took another sip and allowed the aged liquor to heat down his throat.

George shrugged. “You’re a man of action, McDougall. Always have been and always will be. Strategizing, being on the sidelines, hasn’t been good for you.”

Deke shifted in his chair. “I’ve done my time, and I’ve done my action. I’ve earned peace.”

“Speaking of motivation and peace, how’s the ex?” George’s upper lip twitched.

“Spirited,” Deke said. “Not happy to be taken off a beach in Hawaii.”

George full-on grinned. “Has she figured out you waited until her first day of vacation before sending in the team?”

“No, but she will.” There hadn’t been a choice, considering BioGlax Pharmaceuticals would’ve noticed its number-one team missing. “We have nearly two weeks until her people need to report back to work, and we’ll have the bacteria contained by then.”

“I hope so. We’ve had reports of illnesses in Key West that match the Scorpius symptoms.”

Deke rubbed the scruff on his chin. After the initial students had been released, they’d scattered for spring break until he’d had soldiers hunt them down and bring them back. “We knew there was a chance of some spread of the infection.”

“I know.” George stood. “I have a meeting on the Hill. When this is all over, I’d like to meet your ex, at some point. I’m quite curious.”

Deke followed suit and placed his glass on the desk. “How so?”

George tilted his head. “You’re military, and she’s well, antimilitary. Her people are from Argentina, yours from the Highlands of Scotland. Talk about opposites.”

Deke grinned. “She’s not an anarchist, George. She just thinks the government breaks too many rules.” He cocked a shoulder. “She isn’t wrong.”

“No, she isn’t.” George crossed around the desk. “However, I learned a long time ago that there are two types of people in this world.”

Deke turned for the door. “Do tell.”

“The kind who believes the ends justify the means, and the other kind.”

“Who are they?” Deke paused before opening the door and glancing at the older man.

“People who live the life they want because there are people out there, like us, making sure the ends justify the means.” Wisdom, right or wrong, lit George’s eyes. “For now, we claim the luxury of having two kinds of people.” He opened the door and clapped Deke on the back. “If we don’t get a handle on this infection, only one type of person will remain.”

A chill sliced into Deke’s temple. “Which one?”

“Survivors.”

Deke nodded and turned down the hallway, his mind spinning. George had pegged him right. He did feel more like himself now that there was something to fight, and wasn’t that all sorts of fucked-up?

He made his way through the building and out to his car, stopping then to check his phone. A text message from his contact at the CDC read: One of the new team was infected. Fever started two hours ago. Call in.

His legs stopped moving, and he slapped a hand onto the roof of his car. His gut clenched. What had he done? He quickly dialed Nora.

“Hello?” she answered.

“Nora? You infected?” He wrenched open the car door and slid inside, igniting the engine in one smooth motion.

“No. My assistant, Zach, was infected.” Concern rode her voice.

Deke pulled out of the lot, driving one-handed. Thank all the gods. “I’m on my way.” He clicked off to maneuver through traffic. What the hell had he been thinking? Not for one second had he thought about the danger to the research team. There were so many protocols in place. Nora ruled her lab, and he figured she’d be fine.

Yet her own team member now fought the fever.

Every instinct he had pushed him to yank her from the CDC, and he knew the urge came from the hardheaded warrior persona he’d tried so hard to shed. Was George correct? Did Deke belong in the fight and not behind the scenes? No, he’d tried too hard to banish the anger and deal with not only a crappy childhood but the things he’d seen in the service. Hell. The things he’d done in the service. Now he could be a normal guy just living his life.

He could be that guy. He really could. Right?

Traffic hampered him, but he finally arrived at the CDC. His card would get him through any secured door, but he had to go to reception in order to find Nora. As soon as possible, he needed to memorize the layout of the building. An escort arrived, a young intern by the name of Judy, who led him through the building to a heavy metal green door manned by two armed guards. An imposing red biohazard warning spanned the door.

“You go the rest of the way on your own,” Judy said with a happy hop.

Deke nodded. He swiped his card, and the door buzzed. Keeping his expression stoic, he yanked open the door and crossed inside, waiting until it closed before wiping his hand down his jeans. Give him ten armed assassins over a nearly invisible bacteria, any day. He could only kill if he could see the target.

A petite brunette with weary green eyes lounged against the stark white wall, measuring him carefully. He strode toward her and stopped far enough away that she wouldn’t have to tilt her head to look at him. “Can I help you?” he asked.

She lifted one eyebrow. “Yes.” Her tennis shoe tapped a rapid staccato against the tiles.

Interesting. It seemed Nora’s buddy didn’t care for him. Well, that was fine. At the moment, he didn’t like her overmuch, either. “Would you please take me to Nora?”

The brunette lifted an eyebrow. “I’m Lynne Harmony.”

No shit. He’d read her file and knew everything about her from her favorite color to her weakness for chocolate-covered raisins. “Deacan McDougall.”

She chewed on that for a bit before speaking again. “So you’re the bastard who broke my friend’s heart.”

Yep. That’s what he’d figured she’d say. “Yes, ma’am,” he said slowly.

“Do you want to tell me why?”

“Nope.”

“Why not?” Lynne continued to tap her foot.

He glanced down the hallway. There was only one way to go, but he didn’t want to tick off Nora’s friend too much. “I don’t figure it’s any of your business.”

By the woman’s huff, she apparently didn’t agree. “I’m the only family she has left in the world, which does make it my business.”

When she sounded all outraged on Nora’s behalf like that, Deke couldn’t help but like her a little. “Now that’s where you’re wrong, Lynne Harmony.”

She strode toward him, hand on hip. “Excuse me?”

Deke met her gaze, keeping his hands at his sides and trying to appear harmless. He had a point to get across, but there was no need to frighten the woman. “You’re a friend, and from what I can tell, you’re her best friend. That’s good. But I’m her family. Period.”

Lynne kept his gaze without blinking for several tension-filled moments, although a slight blush filled her face. Admiration welled through Deke at her stubbornness. Not many hardened men could hold his gaze for that long. Finally, Lynne nodded. “I guess we understand each other.”

He grinned. His Nora chose her friends well. “I guess we do.” He waited a beat. “She left me, ya know,” he said softly.

“I know. But you let her go,” Lynne said, stretching her neck. “You don’t seem like the type of guy to give up something good.”

Deke gave a short nod. “I’m not, but at the time, I didn’t think I was something good. I figured she’d be safer on her own than with me.”

“Was she?”

Now that was the big question. “I donna know.”

“Fair enough.” Then Lynne Harmony, brilliant scientist and good friend, threw back her head and laughed. “Man, I like you.”

He smiled, feeling as if he’d overcome a deadly hurdle. “The feeling is mutual.”

Lynne tucked her arm through his. “I’ll take you to Nora. She’s not doing well.”

That quickly, Deke’s gut roiled again. He shortened his stride so Lynne wouldn’t have to run and allowed her to lead him through a labyrinth of hallways to a room outside a hospital bubble. Nora sat on a makeshift sofa, her gaze on the young man inside.

Lynne patted him on the arm. “I’m heading back to the lab. If there’s any change, let me know.”

Deke nodded and strode forward to touch Nora on the shoulder. For the slightest of seconds, she leaned against his leg.

Then she straightened. “His name is Zach Barter, he’s twenty-two, and his fever is at a hundred and five.”

Deke sat and slid an arm around her shoulders. “He’s young and strong. The fever should break within the night.” Pulling her into his side, he couldn’t help but press a quick kiss to her curly hair. “You haven’t slept in over twenty-four hours, baby.” They hadn’t been together in eight years, but Deke knew without a doubt she wouldn’t leave her friend to fight the fever by himself. So he took care of her the best he could. “Close your eyes. I’ll watch Zach.”

Nora shuddered and leaned into him.

The situation sucked, but the rightness of the moment dug deep into Deke’s gut and took hold. If they were such opposites, why did it feel so damn good just to sit and hold her?

Chapter Four

After a useless day of trying to penetrate Scorpius’s protein shell, Nora had left her nanoparticle experiments to do their thing. Hopefully there would be results within sixteen hours.

For now, she stood outside Deacan’s apartment door, not moving. Her knees wobbled. Agreeing to dinner had been a mistake. A huge-ass, what was she thinking, larger-than-life. . . mistake. She knew better. God, did she know better.

Yet when he’d asked, her heart had leaped. A hard thud against her rib cage—one she hadn’t felt in eight years. The previous night, as Zach had battled the fever, she’d actually slept curled up into Deacan’s side, feeling safe. Deke had awoken her around dawn with the good news that Zach’s fever had passed. She’d waited for a while to talk to Zach, and the second he made a lame joke, she’d known. He would be all right, and more than willing to donate blood and get his brain scanned for a closer look at Scorpius.

So she’d returned to the lab to double her efforts to beat the crap out of Scorpius. The nanostructured materials so far hadn’t worked, but she’d only tried silver and titania. She’d try ceria next.

Now, after a full day in the lab and a quick shower in her temporary apartment, she hovered like a weenie outside Deke’s place.

If she went inside, she knew exactly where the night would end. Where she wanted it to end—satisfying her curiosity about their past. Had it been as good as she remembered?

She lifted her hand to knock, but the door opened before she made contact.

“I gave you long enough to change your mind.” Deacan grasped her arm to lead her into cool air.

She’d forgotten. The way he had of taking charge, of touching, of instantly enfolding her into his space. Even in his early twenties, he’d ruled the atmosphere around him. Now, in his thirties, seasoned and somehow calm, he still made air adjust to him.

Some things never changed.

She stumbled by him and shoved a bottle of wine into his stomach. “I bought red.”

He lifted one eyebrow and shut the door, accepting the bottle and releasing her arm. “Thank you.”

She swallowed and nodded, her gaze darting around a sprawling room decorated with masculine leather furniture. The room even smelled like him. Spicy and male.

He grasped her chin and lifted her face. “Nora, take a breath.”

She tried to appear calm and meet his gaze, but her heart thundered in her ears. “I’m fine.”

He blinked, his thumb brushing across her chin. “I won’t hurt you, baby.”

She frowned and tilted her head to the side, allowing his fingers to remain on her skin. “I’m not afraid of you.”

He sighed and released her to run a hand through his thick hair. “Sure you are, and I don’t blame you.” He turned toward a spacious kitchen decorated with dark granite and stainless steel appliances.

Heat rushed into her lungs, and she grabbed his arm. Hard and sculpted, his muscles moved beneath her palm.

But he didn’t turn back, and his shoulders remained stiff.

What was he thinking? She kept hold and walked around to face him. “Deacan?”

His gaze met hers, green and dark. “I remember how it was, and so do you. I’ve changed, but I don’t expect you to believe just my words.”

She shook her head, her mind fuzzing. “You’re confusing me. I was never afraid of you.” Afraid for him, sure. Definitely. But not one minute of their time together had she spent thinking he’d hurt her. Ever.

His brows drew together. “I punched the walls. A lot. I was so fucking angry. All the time.”

She nodded, her heart hurting in a way it hadn’t in so long. “I know. But you never hit me, and I never thought you would.” There were times she thought he’d break his hand, but not once, not once, had she feared for herself. He’d been so young and angry. “You’ve never been a man who’d harm a woman, Deacan.”

Even at their worst, when she’d yelled at him, he’d never yelled back. Had never even raised his voice to her. He’d needed her, and she’d run like the scared kid she’d been. Although they’d both changed during the ensuing years, he was still a soldier, whether he knew it or not, and she was still a scientist with a healthy suspicion of the government.

Were they on opposite sides? Especially since Scorpius could be eventually weaponized? She wouldn’t allow any government, even her own, to have that kind of power.

“You were right that I needed to get my head on straight before I re-upped. I should’ve listened to you.” His gaze softened, and he brushed a strand of hair off her face. “We were too young. Way too young.”

She smiled, her body relaxing. “I know.” Clearing her throat, she stepped back. “Where do you really live now?”

He chuckled and turned toward the kitchen. “I had a place in Georgetown, but the lease is up, so I just moved everything here for now. Maybe once you cure Scorpius, I’ll actually buy a place. Settle in.” He shrugged broad shoulders and reached for a plate of steaks.

Deacan McDougall in a permanent home? Hard to imagine. She followed him through the kitchen to a dining nook set against floor-to-ceiling windows looking out at the lights of D.C. He’d set the table with matching place mats, plates, and linens.

“Sit, Nora,” he said, setting a pan in the center and pulling out her chair.

She sat, and amusement bubbled up upon seeing a tag sticking out from her place mat. “This is lovely,” she murmured, discreetly tucking the tag under the blue woven material. She’d bet her last dollar he’d purchased matching tableware that day, and his cupboards were full of mismatched plates and chipped cups. “Everything looks so put together.”

He leaned over a breakfast bar for salad and rolls before opening the wine and pouring them each a glass. Then he sat, overwhelming the oak chair. “I remembered you liked things to match.”

She chuckled, absurdly touched that he’d made such an effort. They hadn’t succeeded as a couple, but there had been some great times together. “Remember that teeny apartment we had by the base?” One bedroom, living room, tiny kitchen, and minuscule bathroom. Just painting the place had depleted their savings, but she’d wanted it bright and cheery for when he took leave, so she’d worked for a week to make a home.

“Yes,” he said, taking a drink of the wine.

She followed suit, allowing the dark taste to warm her belly. It was time for some truth. “I’m thinking it’s not much of a coincidence you had me extracted on day one of my vacation.”

He reached for the salad to dish it on their plates before adding the steak. “No. We needed to keep the relocation of your team under the radar, even from your employer.”

Tingles flared alive in her abdomen. “Don’t you think the public should be made aware there’s a dangerous bacteria being transmitted?”

His green gaze met hers. “We don’t need to cause a panic at this stage.”

She lifted her head. “People have a right to know. You must understand your obligation to the public.” Her gaze narrowed, and her breath slowed.

“It’s too early for panic, Nora. Trust the government a little.”

She set down her fork, her temper simmering. “You’re kidding me.”

“Nope.” Deacan cut into his steak.

How could she trust an entity so comfortable keeping secrets? She wiggled on her seat. “Do other governments know about Scorpius?”

“Yes, and that’s a problem. China accused us of creating Scorpius and is insisting we send along samples.”

Nora coughed. “You said no.”

He glanced up, his gaze direct. “Of course, but that just means we need to tighten security.”

Her mind blanked. “Please tell me that once we solve this thing, Scorpius gets destroyed.”

He leaned toward her, his gaze soft, his voice strong. “Probably not. We need to study it and prepare for any mutations, which I’ve heard has already happened. If Scorpius was in one meteorite, it’ll be in another.”

She shook her head. “I won’t let you use any of my research as a weapon.”

He lifted an eyebrow and gave a short grin. “Fair enough. Let’s talk about something that won’t get us into a fight. How about movies and current events?”

She laughed and started to argue about dramas versus comedies versus sports. Dinner passed, and she finally set down her fork. “That was wonderful. Thank you.”

He nodded, his gaze warming. “I know you’ve dated, Nora, but have you found anything close to what we had?”

Panic skittered down her spine, and she shoved back into her chair. “We were kids, Deacan.” What she remembered, what haunted her at night, had to be a dream. A young girl’s romantic rememberings of a time that couldn’t have existed. She took a big gulp of wine. “What we had wasn’t real.”

“It was real, and you know it.” He refilled both their glasses and then captured her gaze. His voice rumbled low and intimate, while his gaze heated. Seated and eating, he was every bit the slumbering lion, satisfied for the moment. Yet there was no doubt he’d be hungry again . . . and not for steak.

A shiver of warmth licked across her nerves. “I’m not sure.”

“I am. I missed you.”

The statement, so direct and honest, flared her nerves alive. Intrigue and want tempted her with a heated hunger, and she fought to keep control. To remain sane and unharmed. She pushed away from the table and grabbed her wineglass to head into the living room. “Thanks for dinner.”

He reached her with a wisp of sound, tugging her down to the sofa. “Stay the night.”

“Probably not a good idea.” She gingerly placed her glass on the coffee table before she doused them both with Cabernet. The man radiated heat in the air-conditioned room, and she had to fight the urge to nuzzle into his side like she would’ve years ago. To feel that sense of belonging and home. “We tried, we failed, it’s over.”

He remained silent and placed his glass next to hers. “Are you sure?”

No. Hell to the nth of no. She’d been apart from him for eight years, and she’d dated several men, even going so far as to move in with one. Yet not once had her heart been broken when the relationship had ended. Was it possible that there was only one match for each person? She was a scientist and believed in soul mates as much as faeries or mermaids. But she couldn’t help but wonder. Were they meant to be? “What are you asking me, Deacan?”

“Just for one night.” He reached for her, so casually, so easily, and settled her on his lap, facing him, her thighs straddling his. “To find out if it was real. Any of it.”

She could’ve fought him and kept her seat. He wouldn’t have forced her onto his lap. Yet she allowed him to move her, to reposition her, to put her where she’d once belonged. Out of curiosity to find out if she’d still fit easily, and out of a bodily craving she couldn’t deny. Yet she kept her voice level. “Are you joking?” The man wanted to get her into bed? She perched very still, trying not to appreciate the rigid muscles of his thighs between hers. In their years apart, he’d filled out, becoming even harder. “That’s the worse come-on I’ve ever heard.”

His upper lip curved. “Baby, if I just wanted ta get laid, I have plenty of options. I want more. A chance to see if what we had was real, or if I’m making up memories.” He brushed her hair back from her shoulder. “Are you seeing anybody?”

“No,” she breathed.

“When was the last time you had sex?”

Her shoulders went back. “None of your business.”

“Oh?” He ran his hands over her arms and around her waist, pulling her along his legs until his erection nearly burned through her jeans. She almost managed to swallow her gasp. His eyes darkened to a color beyond green. “When was the last time you made that sound?”

Eight years ago. “Deacan—”

At his name, something in him snapped. His arm banded tighter around her waist, and his other hand tangled in her hair, gripping her with the promise of power leashed with determination.

The combination rippled through her, and she shuddered.

“Yeah.” He held her in place. “That.”

She tried to breathe, but the desire clawing through her gave no quarter. “You planned this.”

“No. I wished for this.” He met her mouth, enveloping her in desperate heat. No calculation, no seduction—just all male taking her under.

Her eyes closed, and her hands clamped onto his shoulders. For years, she’d felt so cold. Now, finally, here was warmth. She kissed him back, lost in the feeling, drugged by the familiarity.

He stood easily, holding her, continuing to demolish her mouth. The moment stilled, and she didn’t care. When she dug her hands into his hair, he began to move.

She just didn’t want the ecstasy to end.

Somehow he managed to maneuver through the condo, kissing her the entire time. They reached a bed, and he laid her down. He drew off his shirt, revealing rugged muscles adorned with battle scars. “I’ve waited a long time for this. Are you sure?”

She’d known he’d ask. Somehow, deep down, she’d known. Now they both needed to know if their memories were even close to true. “I’m sure,” she whispered. One night wouldn’t hurt her—she’d make sure of it. But she had to know.

His eyes glittered a startling green through the semidarkness. “I’ve missed you, Nora.” Quick movements had his belt wisping through loops.

She shivered at the sound and partially sat up.

“Let me,” he rumbled, reaching for her shirt. “I remember what you like.”

Did he? She held up her arms so he could remove her shirt. “Prove it.”

Chapter Five

The second she acquiesced, something in Deke’s chest unfolded. Something hard and foreign . . . and now gone. He’d missed her. If she’d decided to show up for dinner, he’d known she’d want to explore their past—to see if what they’d had was real. Hell, he’d been counting on it.

Now, with her daring him from his bed, he finally allowed himself to relax. When he reached down to remove her jeans and panties, his hands trembled enough to make him grin. “Did you know?” he asked softly, wondering if she’d be honest.

She unhooked her bra and tossed the lacy material across the room. Her breasts had filled out, but the hard pink nipples were familiar and so damn sexy. “Know what?”

He breathed out, the air burning his throat. “That we’d end up here tonight.” Lying on his bed, naked, skin glowing in the muted light, the woman was a goddess. The years had been kind to her, sculpting her curves into delicate femininity. Red highlights in the hair spread out against his pillow caught and glimmered, and his cock hardened even more.

She smiled, the sight both enticing and a little sad. “I knew.”

He crawled up her, careful to brush his skin against hers, enjoying the hitch in her chest. Her nipples scraped his pecs, and he groaned. Reaching her face, he kissed her, trying to be gentle. Finally, he had a chance to show her who he’d become. He’d worked so hard to get rid of the anger, to find some sense of peace after so much blood and death. He’d never be that guy again.

She gripped his head, kissing him back, little moans trembling through her chest.

The man inside him, the primitive male, revolted against control. So he rolled them over. “God, Nora. I’d forgotten.”

Her knees dropped to his sides, and her hot sex rubbed against his dick, coating him with wetness. “Forgotten what?” she murmured, her lips pressing hot, openmouthed kisses against his jaw.

“How damn small you are.” He caressed down her flanks to her tight ass, and his cock jumped against her. The woman had taken such a prominent place in his heart, in his mind, in his dreams . . . she seemed so much larger in the abstract. Here, with her writhing on top of him, he remembered her fragility. He probably outweighed her by a hundred plus pounds. Nearly overcome, he gripped her head to hold her still, his fingers tangling in her curls.

She gasped, and more wetness coated his balls at the dominance.

Fire rushed through him, and he grinned. Some things didn’t change. Thank the gods. “I’ll keep you safe this time,” he murmured, claiming eye contact, needing her to understand. To believe him.

She blinked and slid her hand down to grasp him with an incredibly soft hand.

Electricity sparked through his balls, and he shoved against her palm. “Nora—”

She levered herself up, all grace and strength, and positioned him at her entrance. Slowly, almost as if she enjoyed torturing him, she lowered herself, pausing several times and taking deep breaths.

Jesus. How long had it been for her?

Her butt hit his groin, and impossible heat captured his shaft. His eyes rolled back, and thunder rippled down his abdomen. “You’re so damn tight,” he gritted out, his muscles undulating with the need to move.

She chuckled, the sound throaty and breathless. “Now we talk.” Her fingernails scraped across his chest.

His eyes opened. “What?”

“Your statement that you’d keep me safe this time. I’m assuming you’re not talking about birth control, and lucky for you, I’m on the pill. Deke, I was safe last time.” She lifted up and slid back down along his length.

Hunger roared through him, neck to dick. His hand tightened in her hair, and he clutched the bedspread to keep from grabbing her with the other hand. “I meant from me.”

“So did I.” Her eyes darkened to nearly black, and using his abs for balance, she lifted her butt again and then slammed home.

Agonizing need clawed his balls, and he had to bite his lip to keep from moaning. “I was angry. During and after tours.”

Her internal muscles gripped around him, and he arched up into her. She smiled. “You were a scared, angry kid who’d seen hell, and I was a scared, lonely kid who didn’t know how to help you. We’re not those people now. You’re not a soldier.”

He paused. Something wasn’t quite right in the statement, but at the moment, his body was sweating as he held himself back. “I’m not in the service.” But he still wore a gun and dealt with violence. He was just better at it now. Did she understand that?

“Exactly.” She wiggled her butt across his groin, igniting every nerve he had.

He snapped.

Both hands seized her arms, and he rolled them, already pounding into her. She gasped and dug her hands into his flanks, clasping her ankles at the back of his waist. “Nora,” he groaned, burying his face in her neck.

She met him with each thrust, her nails scoring him, her wet heat destroying him. “Harder,” she breathed.

That quickly, with her plea, he forgot any concern. Securing her hip, he lifted her to meet him, fucking her hard. He hit a spot inside her that made her cry out, the sound echoing through his body. He drove harder, holding her in place, fighting to reach bliss.

Her body went taut, and her head pushed back against his hold, her neck elongating. Spasms rippled around him, gripping with a fierce hold. He changed his angle, brushing her clit, and she went off again, crying his name.

Lava poured down his back to collect in his balls. He stopped moving, held her tighter, and ground against her. Sparks of white flashed behind his eyes, and his own release nearly shattered him. Gasping, his lungs heaving, he slowly came down. Sex with Nora had always been all encompassing and wild. But this? After eight years, after knowing what he’d lost, this was more. Everything and absolute.

Finally. He’d returned home.

A quick swipe of his tongue against the pulsing vein in her neck made her sigh. He rose up on his elbows and released his hold. “Are you all right?”

She blinked and then slowly smiled, her eyes remaining at half-mast. “I’m perfect.”

Yes. She damn well was. He rolled to the side, taking her with him to hold, wrapping the bedspread over them. “It’s as good as I remember.”

“Better.” Her voice thickened and sounded drowsy. Mere minutes later, she slipped into sleep, her body relaxing against him.

The feel of her, so soft and trusting, awoke emotions he’d thought he’d buried. A primal need to protect gripped him, surprising in its rawness. He’d been an orphan, a kid who survived losing crappy parents and relocating across the ocean, and then he’d moved on to the service. In the marines, he’d found a purpose. In the vulnerable woman sleeping with abandon in his arms, he’d found a home.

One he’d lost.

Now he’d found her again, and maybe it was possible to show her peace. The instinctive animal deep inside that had made him such a good soldier, a good survivor, could be quelled.

No matter how he tried to convince himself, his instincts hummed. Even if he could find peace, Scorpius wouldn’t let him.

For years, as a soldier, his instincts had told him when danger stalked near. Now more than ever, he was sure.

The war had just begun, and the peaceful guy inside him, the one Nora would love, had to disappear. Only the soldier could remain. He pressed a kiss to Nora’s head, wanting to hold tight for the night.

Then he’d let her go.

Chapter Six

Nora studied Deke over a mound of piled scrambled eggs and tried to sit comfortably in the diner booth. The previous night had been explosive, and she’d used some very out-of-practice muscles. “I appreciate you absolutely insisting on taking me to an early breakfast before we get back to work, but I need to return to the lab for results expected in about an hour.”

He finished chewing and swallowed. “We burned a lot of calories last night, and you need protein. If I’d allowed you to go right to the lab, you would’ve stressed out all day. Here we can analyze the situation together, calmly, and then reach a mutual decision so you don’t have to fret.”

Fret. Had he just said fret? She set down her fork. “I’m not some frail girl from last century, Deke.” For some reason, with his only slightly mellowed accent, he came across as more arrogant and self-assured than he would’ve with a modern drawl. “I can handle my own thoughts.”

He smiled, transforming his face into a powerful masculine beauty no man should be able to wield. “You’re the smartest person I’ve ever met.”

She sat back, slightly appeased, desire warming at just being near him.

“But you’re one to fret, sweetheart.” He dug back into his ridiculous stack of pancakes. “I thought to cut that off at the pass.”

She blinked. “Excuse me?”

Male suffering filled his sigh as he set down his utensils. Green eyes, Scottish and true, lasered right into her. “Ar-right. Let’s do this now so we can eat. Have you wondered about us through the years?”

She crossed her arms. “I don’t think—”

“Nora.” He didn’t snap, he didn’t raise his voice, but a new tone, a bite of command, filled it. “Just answer the question. Have you wondered?”

“Yes,” she huffed.

“I donna want to know about other men, but has it been like that with anybody else?”

Heat climbed into her face. “Deke—”

“Nora.” Another command.

Fine, and that voice should not be wetting her panties. “No. But sex is just sex.” Even as the words tumbled out of her, she didn’t believe them.

“Uh-huh.” His gaze dropped with longing to his pancakes before returning to pin hers. “So we have two choices. I spent a lot of time thinking last night—”

“Thinking?” She squinted and narrowed her focus. “There was no time for thinking. Hell, we barely had time for sleep.” They’d had sex four times during the night. Four times.

He grinned. “Between rounds one and two, you slept a little. I thought.”

She pressed her fingers to her closed eyelids as a headache roared in. “We don’t have time for this right now. Too much is going on.”

He reached over and gently pried her fingers away. She opened her eyes. He released her. “There’s always too much going on, and for right now, we’re working together. Last night, after round one, I figured this was a one-night deal, and that we would just get some closure,” he rumbled.

Hurt, surprising in its sharpness, sliced into her chest. “Okay.”

“But then, between rounds three and four, I decided fuck that.” He took a bite of pancake.

“Uh.” She couldn’t find words. What words were there?

He grinned. “I figure it’ll take more than one night to get closure.”

She couldn’t hold back a chuckle. “Your plan, the one you came up with while I slept, was to keep having sex with me while I’m in town.”

He nodded, amusement lightening his too-knowing eyes. “Exactly.”

“You’re terrible.” She took a bite of eggs.

“That’s not what you said last night.”

She shook her head. There was no way she could continue sleeping with Deacan McDougall and not lose her heart again. They’d nearly destroyed each other once. “Not a good idea.”

A corner of his mouth twitched. “Ah, to have lived centuries ago.”

She couldn’t help but return the smile. “When you could’ve just kidnapped me instead of cajoled?”

He grinned. “Aye. We’d still be married, and you’d be thoroughly tamed by now.”

She rolled her eyes at the teasing, but even so, studying him, she could see his proud heritage. Rugged features and battle-hardened green eyes. He would’ve made a hell of a Highlander, an incredible warrior. She had no doubt he would’ve tamed her way back when. But now she had rights, and a brain—and the desire spiraling through her abdomen could just stop it. “Pity for you to be born in this time.”

“Aye,” he breathed. “However, I am now as modern as a man can be. I’ve mellowed and learned to control not only my temper but the actual anger.”

She tilted her head to the side. “You make it sound as if the anger was already in you before you went to war.”

“’Twas.” He shook his head. “The anger has been with me since I was a kid. My da was a prick, my ma not much better. When they died and I moved to the States, I was already screwed up.” His long fingers played idly with his unused knife.

“I know,” she said softly. She knew well his childhood hadn’t been safe, with a father who hit and a mother who drank. “You moved past the pain.” At least, she had thought he’d found peace with his childhood. Of course, then he’d entered the military and had seen things that had only brought back the anger. “Right?”

“Mayhaps. Hell, Nora. Maybe the anger lives in my blood anyway.” He rubbed the whiskers on his hard jawline. “Maybe my people all have it.”

The descendants of the Highlanders seemed to hear a distant call nobody else did. She wasn’t prone to fancy, but every once in a while, she’d seen a faraway look in his eyes, as if he sensed something. As if a whisper, across the times, demanded his attention. She shivered. “I appreciate the offer but think I’ll opt for self-preservation. Any truce between us is temporary.”

“What about my new mellow life and attitude?” he asked evenly.

She bit back a smile. “It’s temporary. I know you, Deacan. There’s an edge to you, always will be, and you need the action. The fight.”

His eyebrows lifted. “I don’t agree, but even if I did, so what? Right now, we’re fighting together. Common goal and common enemy.”

Right now. She sighed. “The second we cure the Scorpius infection, our goals diverge. Science is about saving lives, and we both know the military will want to weaponize and further mutate the bacteria.”

He sighed and set down his utensils. “Having weapons is necessary to saving lives, and you know it.”

“Science shouldn’t be used that way,” she said softly.

He leaned back and rubbed his chin. “Remember when I first got to the States? A couple of kids at school, the ones on the boxing team, tried to mess with me?”

She sipped her tea. “I do.”

“Do you remember what happened?” His voice rumbled low. Intimate.

She inhaled the scent of peppermint herbs, remembering him well as a handsome, lost, pissed-off kid from Scotland. “You beat the ever-livin’ shit out of them, Deacan.”

He nodded. “Aye. What happened then?”

She frowned, studying him. “Well, nothing happened.”

“Exactly.”

She set down the cup. “It’s different.”

“No—it’s the same. We have a weapon; the world knows we’ll use it if pushed, so they don’t push, and we don’t use. Simple as that.”

Yeah, and that was why they’d never see eye to eye. “We’re going to end up on opposing sides.” She’d destroy the bacteria when it was no longer needed, and that might even be illegal, according to current law. Who knew?

He lifted an eyebrow. “Your best friend works for the government. Have you thought about that?”

“Yes.” But Nora knew Lynne, and she was a healer, not a killer. “I trust her.”

“Hmm. You may not know her as well as you thought.”

Nora frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Ask her.” He paused while the waitress refilled his coffee. “How did you two become friends, anyway?”

Nora smiled. “Oh, we weren’t friends the first semester of grad school. Didn’t like each other, actually.”

A grin split Deke’s face, masculine and way too handsome. “Don’t tell me. You two competed. Big-time.”

“Yes.” Nora blew on her tea. “In every class, on every quiz or test, one of us earned the top grade. We saw each other constantly at the library or in class, and we pushed each other.”

Deke settled back. “And then?”

“Lynne’s a klutz. A serious, should be bound in bubble-wrap klutz.” Nora chuckled, memories assailing her. “One night, we were the last two in the library, and she needed a book on the top shelf. She climbed it, no big deal, but then . . .”

Deke winced. “She fell?”

“Yes. The entire shelf started to come down, and I just reacted.” Nora shrugged. “Moved without thinking, tackled her, and got her out of the way.”

Approval mingled with amusement in his green eyes. “So you saved her?”

“I broke my right wrist.” Nora sighed. “Which wasn’t a huge deal, because in most of our classes, we could use recorders during the lectures. But in Dr. Mobsey’s advanced biology class, the complete dickhead, no computers or recorders were allowed. Taking notes was tough.”

“And?”

“After class one day, I was trying to decipher my left-handed notes, and Lynne sat down with a typed set of hers.” Nora shook her head and heat tingled into her face. “I told her to stuff it, that I didn’t need her help, and thanks anyway.”

Deke chuckled. “And?”

“She said I probably couldn’t understand her notes because she’d used big words.” Nora chortled. “We laughed, and she shared her notes. Then we started to study together, and before second semester was over, we were best friends. Still are.” They’d seen each other through breakups, job problems, and good times. Yet now Deke hinted that Lynne was keeping secrets. He had to be wrong.

His phone buzzed, and he read the face. Tension gathered along the sides of his mouth.

Nora leaned toward him. “What is it?”

He slipped the device back into his pocket. “We’ll have to finish talking about us later.” He slipped a series of bills on the table. “The president just slipped into a coma.”

Chapter Seven

After breakfast, Nora headed back to the new temporary CDC labs. Upon going through security, she swung by the lab to find the experiments about another hour from spitting out results, so she went searching for Lynne. She stepped into Lynne’s office to see her reading charts, scuffed boots up on the desk. With a sigh, Nora inched inside and dropped into a chair.

“That was an ‘I had crazy monkey sex last night and am sore’ sigh,” Lynne mused, her gaze not leaving the papers.

Nora coughed, and heat climbed from her chest to her face. “Shut up.”

Lynne looked over the top of the file, emerald eyes widening. “Oh my. I was just kidding.” Her boots dropped to the floor. “You’ve only been here a day. What were you thinking?”

“Meow? Take me harder? Oh thank you, God?”

Lynne snorted. “How was it?”

“Amazing. Four times over—amazing.”

Lynne’s mouth dropped open. “Four times? Really? Does he have a brother?”

“No.” Nora studied her friend. Tired. Definitely exhausted. “What are you reading?”

“Your boy’s brain scans.”

Nora lost her grin. “And?”

“Zach seems fine.” Lynne closed the file and slid the mass over the desk. “Activity in the central cortex lights up as normal.”

Nora flipped open the top sheet to see a nice blue and green blend around Zack’s frontal cortex. “Why do you sound worried?”

“He’s a boy genius, and we don’t know what his cortex looked like before the infection.” Lynne clasped her hands on her desk. “Also, I don’t like that he’s now a carrier and was infected in my lab. He’s twenty-two, for goodness’ sake. We need to find a cure and fast.”

Nora tapped the printout. “We sure do. Then we can destroy the mutated samples, right?”

Lynne arched one angled eyebrow. “I thought that was our plan.”

“Me too.” Nora planted the file back on the desk. The current experiments wouldn’t be finished for at least an hour, so it was time to get to the truth. “What aren’t you telling me?”

Lynne frowned. “Huh?”

“Deacan said you had a secret.”

“Oh, did he?” Lynne rubbed her elbow and blushed a very pretty shade of pink. “It’s not a secret. You and I haven’t had time to talk, and it’s not something you exactly Skype about. Geez.”

Curiosity roared through Nora, but a shadow by the doorway caught her eye. She turned to focus. “Zach.”

He stood in full protective gear, face behind a mask. Even so, something about him looked like a clean-cut movie star from the 1950s. Thick blond hair, blue eyes, trembling smile in a pale face. “I wanted to thank you for staying outside my bubble the first night.” His voice emerged tinny through the faceplate.

She glanced at Lynne. “The full suit isn’t necessary, is it?”

Lynne shook her head. “From a safety protocol, no. From a workplace and emotional standpoint, hell yes. Everyone is nervous as wet cats around here.”

Pressure built behind Nora’s eyeballs. “We’re all scientists—screw emotion. If he’s no more infectious than a carrier for regular Staph, typhoid fever, or even MRSA, then we shouldn’t treat him like he’s carrying the plague.”

Zach snorted behind the helmet. “I don’t mind, to be honest. It was my fault I got infected, and I deserve to be a little uncomfortable. Apparently walking is good for my joints, because the doctors suited me up to head down for yet another MRI.”

Nora studied him. “You look so much better.”

“I’m glad, because I feel like somebody punched me in the head with a Buick,” he said.

Lynne nodded. “Aptly put. Other than that, feeling crazy?”

“No.” Zach shrugged. “I’m not sure I would know, however.” His eyes clouded behind the rimmed glasses. “How contagious am I now?”

Lynne exhaled. “The bacteria is still alive in your saliva, blood, and probably semen. For now, you can’t kiss, give blood, or have sex until we find a counteragent or a cure for Scorpius.”

Red flushed across Zach’s cheekbones. “How long do I need to stay in the protective room at the CDC?”

Lynne swallowed. “For a while yet, Zach. I’m sorry.”

His Adam’s apple wobbled. “Okay. Let me know my results when you get them.” Turning awkwardly in the suit, he disappeared down the hallway.

Nora shook her head. “Semen? Man. You didn’t have to embarrass him.”

Lynne’s lips twitched. “I wanted to make him laugh.” She rubbed her nose. “Sorry we have to keep him contained. But at least here he can continue working with that huge brain of his.”

Nora grimaced. “I don’t agree with the containment.”

“Neither do I. The fever has passed, and he’s out of the woods. Basically, he’s a carrier, and there are tons of people who are carriers of dangerous diseases—especially Staph. But we have public relations concerns, and for the time being, he stays put.”

Nora nodded. “I know.”

Bobbi poked her head in the doorway. Today she’d worn a bright pink top with tight jeans and looked like a cheerleader from any California college team. “The samples of the president’s blood have arrived, and they’re in the lab. The White House is expecting a cure today.”

Nora snorted. “Then we’ll get right on that.”

Bobbi nodded. “Have you seen Zach?”

“He’s getting an MRI down in Imaging.” Lynne rested her elbows on the desk. “If you end up in his contained room with him, there’s no kissing, no sex with Zach. You wear gloves and don’t touch anything.”

Bobbi rolled her eyes. “I know, but talking is okay, right?”

Lynne lifted a shoulder. “Talking is fine.”

“Good.” Bobbi stretched her neck. “I’ve been receiving the stats from across the country, and the contagion is spreading, but doctors don’t know what it is. At some point . . .”

“I know. We’re waiting for approval to announce.” Lynne swallowed. “Would you make sure Zach found Imaging?”

“Yep.” Bobbi hopped away.

Lynne’s phone buzzed, and she answered it. “Hi. No. Lunch? Probably not, but I can meet tonight after setting up our next batch of tests. They should take at least twelve hours to come to fruition. Okay. You too.” She slid the phone back onto the desk.

Nora lowered her chin but kept quiet. No way. She knew that look. “Oh, my God. You totally are seeing somebody.”

Lynne’s eyes widened. “Shhh. My door is open.”

Nora shoved hair out of her eyes. “So? This is a secret? Why is it a secret?” She stood. “He’s not married, is he?”

Lynne rolled her eyes. “For the love of Pete, of course he isn’t married. Geez. I just try to keep my personal life private, you know?”

Nora planted both hands on her hips. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Lynne swept both hands out. “It’s pretty new, just a few months, and I figured I’d dish all when we met next month for our Vegas weekend.”

“Oh.” Nora’s mind spun. She leaned against the chair. “Well? Dish now.”

Lynne smiled, her eyes glimmering. “His name is Bret Atherton, he’s smart and sexy, and he’s from Atlanta. We met at a fund-raiser for a local kid’s ranch. Our first date, he took me for a picnic.”

Nora squinted. “Bret Atherton? As in Congressman Bret Atherton?”

Lynne wrinkled her nose. “Yes.”

Nora snorted. “You’re dating a politician. A congressman from Georgia.” She laughed. Her wild, free, brilliant friend was dating a politician. A blond, sexy, sharp politician. Her mind clicked through what she knew. “Wait a minute. After the last elections . . . didn’t he become the Speaker of the House?”

“Yes.” Lynne sighed. “I like him, politics and all, but we’re taking it slow.”

“You slut. You’ve done him.”

Lynne rolled her eyes. “Look who’s talking. You’re back in the same air as your ex for one day, and you can barely walk.”

“Shut up,” Nora said without heat. “I’ve seen your guy on television. Definitely charismatic.”

Lynne shrugged. “I know—he’s pretty amazing. May make a bid for the presidency next time. The guy has quite an ego, you know? For some reason, I keep finding that incredibly sexy.” Her phone buzzed, and she glanced down. “My newest results are spitting out in the lab, and shouldn’t yours be available sometime today? The new ones on the nanostructured oxide? For now, you can help me. We can talk men later.”

Nora sighed and rose. “Between the two of us, we really know how to complicate our lives.”

“Amen, sister.”

Deke sat on a flowery chair across an antique coffee table from Sally Phillips, who relaxed on a matching sofa in the residence of the White House. “I’ll ask you again, do you understand me?” he asked quietly.

She rolled her eyes, looking like any other put-upon nineteen-year-old co-ed. “Yes. I get you. If I move, if I try to lunge and bite you, you’ll have no choice but to protect yourself.” Her pretty pink lips pouted. “When did you become such a wimp?”

“When you infected your father, the President of the United States and my boss, with a deadly bacteria.” He kept his expression bland but watched closely.

Nothing. No emotion, no regret, no anger. “That was an accident, Deke. I promise.” She fluttered her eyelashes.

He rubbed his whiskered chin. Damn it. He’d forgotten to shave again. Wincing, he set his hands on his knees, careful not to touch anything else in the room. “Listen, Sally. I want to help you.”

She rubbed her hands down jean-clad thighs and sighed. With her blond hair in a ponytail and wearing a Stanford T-shirt, she looked like any pretty teenager. “I appreciate your offer, but the doctors are wrong. Sure, I might’ve been kinda crazy right after the fever when I bit my dad, but I feel fine now. And awful about Dad.” She smiled, flashing twin dimples. “He’s strong and will be fine.”

“I know.”

She huffed again. “I feel okay and don’t want to bite anybody else. When can I get out of house arrest?”

Deke sighed. “Your last brain scans still show lack of activity in your frontal cortex.”

She snorted. “My brain is working just fine. Give me a break. They can’t tell from a bunch of colors what’s going on in my head.”

Good point. “I’m inclined to agree with you there.” He leaned forward, his hands dangling between his knees. “For now, we have to make sure you’re all right before letting you loose. You understand that.”

She leaned back her head. “I do, but I’m so sick of being cooped up. What if my brain scans never get colorful? I mean, if they were colorful before. Maybe they weren’t. Maybe I’m somebody who doesn’t have a lot of colors flashing from machinery in a freakin’ lab.” She lowered her chin, and tears glinted in her eyes. “It’s like they want me to go crazy.”

Being held inside without any freedom would drive him up the wall, too. “I’m sorry, Sally. I’ll talk to the scientists at the CDC and determine if there’s any other way to test your brain than what they’re doing.” More importantly, the girl had a point. What if her brain scans didn’t ever really light up? Was that a true sign that she was dangerous? Somehow, he wasn’t buying it. “I’ll do my best.”

She rolled her eyes again. “Why are you in charge here? I mean, you’re not Secret Service or in the military. What exactly are you?” Her focus narrowed.

“Special Strategic Advisor to the President of the United States,” Deke murmured.

She chuckled. “Sounds like a complete bullshit title, now doesn’t it?”

“Aye.”

“I’ve been around politics my whole life, you know?” She glanced toward the heavily curtained window and then back.

He breathed out, his shoulders tightening. “That kind of sucks.”

“It really does,” she said softly. “But you know what? I can recognize a soldier, and I can recognize a killer. You’re both, aren’t you?”

He couldn’t really blame her for being pissed. “I’ve been a soldier, and I’ve killed.”

“How many?” Her eyes glittered.

He shook his head.

She clucked her tongue. “I’m in trouble because I bit my dad while under a fever, and you’re an advisor to the president because you’ve killed tons of people.” She leaned toward him, gaze intense. “You believe in hell?”

“Yes.” He had to concentrate to keep his brogue at bay. Tension lifted the hair on the back of his neck, and he paid heed.

“Me too.” Her shoulders slumped, and her gaze dropped to her knees. “At the worst of the fever, I almost died.” She lifted her gaze, her lips twisting. “I didn’t see a light, Deke. I heard a darkness.”

Chilled nails ticked down his spine. “And now?”

She rested her chin on her hand and let out a low sigh. “I don’t hear anything and just want to go shopping.”

Now that sounded like a normal kid. His body relaxed. “I’ll see what I can do.” He rose and edged around the coffee table. “Give me a little time.”

“Okay.” She scratched her elbow.

“Call me if you need anything.” He passed the sofa and headed toward the door, his heart heavy. Poor kid. They had to be able to figure out the brain scans and whether the colors really meant anything.

A wisp of sound.

He partially turned, only to be attacked by a hurtling female body. Pain thumped into his shoulder. All instinct, he pivoted and shoved. Hard.

Sally flew across the room and smashed into the couch, bunching instantly to leap toward him again, nails out, teeth bared. Saliva slid down her chin.

He settled on his feet, waited, and took the hit by grabbing her arms. A quick turn, and he planted her on her face.

She struggled, spitting, an inhuman snarling jerking her body.

Holy fuck. The kid probably weighed a hundred pounds, but her strength was beyond what it should be. “Restraints,” he yelled toward the closed door.

Sally kept trying to turn her head toward him, teeth snapping. He clasped the back of her neck and held her still. “Take it easy, Sally,” he tried to soothe like he would a wild animal.

She kicked and howled.

A Secret Service agent ran inside with zip ties.

“Stay away from her mouth,” Deke ordered. Shit. He was tying up and might have to gag the president’s daughter.

The agent’s eyes widened, and she handed over the ties. “Did she bite you?”

“No.” But she’d hit him hard enough to bruise his shoulder.

“I thought Sally was better,” the agent said.

Deke nodded. “So did I.” Fuck, was he wrong.

The agent lifted both eyebrows. “I just received word.” The atmosphere thickened around Deke. “And?”

She leaned over to whisper in his ear. “The president is dead.”

Chapter Eight

Week 2

50 people dead
Likelihood of Scorpius Containment: Probable

Nae man can tether time or tide.

—ROBERT BURNS, SCOTTISH POET

After days without positive results, Nora had left experiments running and headed to her apartment for a very late dinner with Lynne and Bobbi. They devoured her homemade chicken-surprise dish, and she clicked off the phone after giving directions for Amanda Bison to play first base and July Newcomb to cover for shortstop.

As she slipped her phone back into her pocket, both women stared at her with various expressions of what the hell?

She sighed. “Last year, one of my bunko friends needed an assistant coach for a girls’ softball team. The Tigers. I played softball as a kid and somehow ended up volunteering.” She had a blast with the girls and the team. “We won the division last year.”

Bobbi raised both eyebrows. “You play bunko?”

Nora nodded. “Yes. I do have a life outside of my job, you know.” She played bunko with a fun and tipsy group of friends, jogged regularly, and coached softball. “I miss my life.” The calmness and order of it.

“You’ll get back to it soon,” Lynne said, patting her hand.

Would she? Although she’d only been gone a week, she wondered if life would ever get back to normal. Scorpius was spreading. “I hope so.” When the president had died, they’d had to announce his passing to the world, but the government had lied by saying it was a stroke. “We need to cure this thing and now. When will the neurologists from Johns Hopkins head this way?” Nora asked.

Lynne set down her beer bottle and rubbed her bloodshot eyes. “Tomorrow morning.”

Bobbi scratched her head. “Why aren’t they here already?”

“Their medical facility in Baltimore is the best. Now they want a firsthand look,” Lynne murmured, reaching for another scan. “Zach’s brain scan is bright and colorful.”

“He is a genius.” Bobbi snorted, her gaze remaining sober. “But he’s still contagious.”

Lynne nodded. “I know. Any thoughts on that one?” She lifted an eyebrow at Nora.

Nora shrugged. While she’d been watching Zach carefully, he really did seem to be all right. Cheerful, smart, and nerdy as usual. “Being contagious sucks, but it isn’t the end of the world. I mean, there are many carriers of MRSA, and they live normal lives. They can only infect people who have wounds, and it’s rare. But possible.”

“We don’t know enough about Scorpius yet, so I can’t release him from the CDC’s secure facility,” Lynne said on a strong exhale. “I think I’d almost prefer if Scorpius were a virus.”

“No.” Nora flipped open another manila file folder. “With a bacteria, we can create an antibiotic or at least a nanosponge to take it out. Hopefully.”

Lynne yawned until her jaw popped and then glanced at her watch. “Crap. It’s midnight. Let’s all get a few hours’ shuteye and meet in the main lab at four. The enzyme experiments should be concluded by then. Hopefully they’ve done their job and discovered a way to break up the DNA of Scorpius.”

Bobbi groaned and pushed away from the table. “Four a.m.?”

Lynne stood and rolled her eyes. “All right. Five a.m., but everyone be ready to go.” She glanced at the cluttered table. “You need help cleaning up?”

“No.” Nora wanted a few more minutes of work. “You’ll just make it more disorganized.”

“I’d object to that statement if I wasn’t so tired.” Lynne stood and inched toward the door.

Bobbi hovered. “Thanks for dinner, and thanks for letting me work with you two. I really like Zach and want to help him.”

“You bet.” Nora smiled. Ah, young love. She remembered how quickly it could happen.

Lynne and Bobbi took off.

Less than a minute later, a knock echoed on the door. Nora glanced around the table. What had Lynne forgotten now?

Humming and shrugging stiff shoulders, Nora crossed the living room and opened the door. Her mouth gaped open. “Zach.”

He stood in pressed pants and a crisp shirt, looking like a clean-cut superhero. A bouquet of roses filled one slender hand. “I wanted to thank you for staying at the hospital all night, and I figured we should get some things straight.”

Her body stiffened in pure instinct. “Uh, what are you doing here?” She blinked. He hadn’t been released from the CDC.

He wiped a hand across his brow and shrugged. “My key card still works, and I just changed into doctor attire. Nobody expected me to leave, so nobody was watching.”

Well, hell. Good point. “You dropped by your place for fresh clothing?”

He glanced down at the ironed clothes. “Yes. I wanted to look good for you.”

Oh, shit. She shook her head. “You’re not thinking clearly.”

He lowered his chin. “I almost died last week.”

She swallowed. Was his brain going wonky? Had they missed something in the scans? “I know.”

“I think wasting time is a bad idea. Hell. This thing could still kill me.” He sighed.

She shook her head. Fear made her hands tremble. Could she get to her phone? “We won’t let that happen. We’ll figure out Scorpius. In the meantime, you just need to take care of yourself and be vigilant until we find the right antibiotic and vaccine.”

“Life is short, Nora,” he whispered.

Now that she knew. How could she get through to him? Blood roared through her head, making her dizzy. “I think maybe something is going on with you. How about we head into the lab and take a look at your scans?”

Zach stood close—too close—his gaze on her lips. “I know you are hesitant about us because you’re kind of my supervisor right now, but I’ve faced death, so we need to stop playing around. Enough is enough.” A young firmness entered his voice and gave her pause.

“Zach, let me help you.”

“I don’t need help.” In a surprisingly fast move, his hip hit hers, shoving her back into the apartment. He shut the door.

Panic roared through her.

He grasped her arm. “Let’s discuss this rationally.”

Okay. This shouldn’t be happening, but it was, so she needed to deal, and now. “You’re having issues. Use your big brain and slow down.” She planted a hand against his chest. “Trust me.”

“It’s time you shut up and trusted me,” Zach hissed, his face contorting.

Holy shit. Who was this guy? His brain scans had been normal. What had they missed? Nora angled to the side. “Listen, Zach, something’s up with the way your brain is working. Let’s call Lynne and go take additional scans.”

He grabbed her arm and pushed her toward the hall closet. The flowers dropped.

The image of the red petals gliding down and scattering against the white tile skittered a chill down Nora’s back. Her breath caught. She hadn’t realized how tall Zach stood. Now as he looked down, his handsome features held a hardness she’d never seen on him.

“Pack a bag. We need to go discuss this somewhere we won’t be interrupted,” he said.

Possibilities flashed through her brain. She could fight, or she could flee. But maybe she could reason with him. An idea struck her. “Don’t you want to see what’s happening in your brain right now? You’re the most curious I person I’ve ever met.”

“No.” He cocked his head toward the living room. “Get packed.”

Her gaze slid to the side to where her cell phone sat on the kitchen counter.

“Don’t even think of calling the soldier. He’s not right for you.” Zach remained motionless.

Terror trickled through Nora’s gut. “Please let me help you.”

“No.” Zach’s calm expression didn’t twitch. “I thought I had time to court you right, but with Deke in the picture, we need to get a move on now.”

“I’m not leaving with you,” she snapped.

He smiled, and the once charming expression now held menace. “Oh, you are.”

She couldn’t get to the phone, and she didn’t want to get anywhere near the bedroom and bed. So she went on instinct.

And nailed him in the balls.

He doubled over with a shocked oof and fell to the side. Her breath panted out, and fear heated the air. She had to avoid his teeth and mouth. She pivoted and kicked him in the hip, throwing him against the coat closet. Then she yanked open the front door, grabbed his hair, and propelled him outside.

Her heart thundered in her chest, and she fumbled locking the door. The second the bolt engaged, she jumped for the phone.

It rang just as she grasped for it. “Hello,” she nearly screamed.

“Nora? What’s wrong?” Deke asked, the sound of movement echoing through the line.

Zach pounded on the front door.

Nora turned her head to yell at Zach. “I’m on the phone with Deke. Just stay there until we can get you some help.” She really didn’t want to go hand-to-hand with a pissed-off Zach now that he was prepared for a physical fight.

“Damn it,” Deke bellowed. “I’m on my way. What’s going on?”

The pounding stopped. Nora eyed the room wildly. “I think Zach is having mental problems. Please send somebody to take him in for tests. Somebody trained and armed. He’s dangerous. But don’t hurt him.”

“Get in the bathroom and lock the door. I’ll be right there.” Deke’s voice lowered to calm and direct.

She breathed out, her head swimming. Pounding footsteps echoed down the hallway. “He’s gone. Damn it. We have to find him.”

“I’ll send out a BOLO and call in my men. Stay there.”

Nora nodded, her gaze taking in the scattered rose petals. What now?

Nora opened the door on Deke’s knock and let him into her apartment, her hands gesturing, even though she was sucking in air to calm down. Thank God Deke was there. “Lynne and I have called everyone Zach knows, and nobody has seen or heard from him. Bobbi is really upset and is trying Twitter and Facebook to find him.”

Deke shrugged out of his jacket. “I have men scouring the city for him. He’s only been gone two hours, so he can’t have gotten far.”

The guy was a genius and would know how to hide. “This is so bad,” she murmured. “I should go and try to find him.”

Deke lifted an eyebrow. “Where exactly would you look?”

She bit her lip. “No clue.”

“Exactly. Stay here, stay safe, and we’ll get him. Where’s Lynne?” Deke tossed his coat toward the sofa.

“She left about five minutes ago, for the second time, after giving everybody orders to get a couple hours’ sleep—especially me. The poor woman could barely stand, yet she’s worried about me.” Too much energy, probably adrenaline, roared through Nora’s veins. “I think I may head into the lab and get to work early.” None of her results would be ready, but she just couldn’t sleep.

“Absolutely not. You’re staying here and getting some rest, and you’re under guard until Zach is caught. I’m protecting you tonight while my men find him. Period.” Deke’s jaw clenched. “There’s nothing either one of us can do right now, so we’re catching rest.”

Nora’s mouth gaped open and then closed on a snap. There was the bossy asshat she’d once married. Yet instead of ticking her off, she was almost giggly. It must be because she was so tired. “Your time of ordering me around has long past, Deacan McDougall.”

He rubbed whiskers that had grown rougher in the few hours they’d been apart. A black gun nestled in the harness strapped around his right leg, and a polished knife handle gleamed at his belt. In a dark shirt with faded jeans, he looked like a mixture of badass soldier and dangerous warrior from years gone by. “I’ve never ordered you around,” he said.

“Sure you did. Remember when there were those robberies in my neighborhood before we even got married?” She flushed hot.

He blinked, his green eyes narrowing. “That was different.”

Her head lifted. “Oh yeah? How?”

“Jesus, Nora. When it comes to safety, to danger, I fuckin’ know a lot more than you do about survival.” At the outburst, his brogue came on strong. “Right now, you have a guy stalking yer every move. He was alone with you in your own apartment.”

She blanched, and bile rose in her throat. The realization of how easily Zach could’ve bitten her rolled her stomach over. “You don’t need to sleep over.”

Deke grinned, and seeing the tension leave his face was like viewing the sun after a monstrous storm. “I’ll just stay until we catch Zach, and that might even be tonight. All right?”

She paused, studying him. Well, at least he’d asked. Truth be told, she wasn’t a dumbass who wouldn’t accept protection when necessary, especially since she didn’t quite know what she was dealing with concerning Zach. Deke was trained, and he was dangerous. He could handle any threat. So she nodded and gave him what he wanted. “I would very much appreciate your protection while Zach is on the loose.”

At her acquiescence, Deke’s eyes darkened. “Ah, I do so like you sweet and agreeable, Nora McDougall.”

Heat flared down her torso, and she didn’t correct his use of the wrong name. “I wouldn’t know the feeling, Deacan. I’ve never seen you agreeable or sweet.”

His chin lowered, and intent mingled with the amusement in his amazing eyes. “Sassy now, are you?”

Her very blood sparked with the need to challenge him. Life had turned dangerous, and she wanted an escape. Just a moment to be a woman and have some fun. With Deacan. She was way too keyed up to sleep and needed to burn off some energy, and there wasn’t much she could do in the lab until the current experiments were concluded in the morning. Hopefully the charged nanoparticle experiment would work. “Sassy, I am. Think you can handle me?”

His eyebrows rose, and the amusement disappeared. “Yeah. I know I can.” That deep voice lowered even more, rumbling with a masculine truth he made no effort to mask.

Anticipation stiffened her limbs. “Prove it.”

His head lifted while his eyelids dropped to half-mast, giving him a primal look only a true predator could wear. “Run,” he said softly.

A nervous chuckle tickled up her windpipe. Trembles vibrated her legs, and her mind kicked into gear with a sense of warning. “I don’t think you can catch me.” Yeah, she was enjoying being a woman all of a sudden, completely ignoring reality.

His head cocked, ever so slightly. “Last chance. Run.”

As if her body were his to command, she turned and leaped into a mad dash. Around the sofa and over a stack of books. He caught her before she’d cleared her doorway, propelling them both hard and fast toward the bed to hit with a thud. She flipped onto her back and kicked, laughing, striking out with her hands to hit solid muscle.

He pressed a knee between her thighs and grabbed her wrists to stretch above her head against the pillows. Hard as she writhed, she couldn’t gain purchase to counter him. Masculine smugness angled his jaw as he stared down at her. “Appears you’ve been caught.”

Her struggles were useless, and she sobered at how quickly, how easily, he’d subdued her. Instead of providing caution, the reality speared fiery awareness through her. The power of the thigh between hers caught her breath in her throat.

He leaned up to gain better hold of her wrists, and that hard leg muscle pressed against her sex.

She gasped, and her body involuntarily shoved up into him.

He glanced down, eyes darkening, just as her nipples hardened to points inside her bra, causing small spikes of pleasure through her breasts. Holding her in place with merely one hand around her wrists and one thigh between hers, he quickly unfastened his harness and dropped the gun by the side of the bed. “Are you going to fight me?” he asked, the tone merely curious.

The game of run and chase had been fun, and playing with Deke was a lot more enjoyable than fighting with him. “And if I do?” she teased.

“You’ll lose.” One swipe down her front scattered buttons. “I may even tickle.”

She gasped. “Hey.”

He lifted a broad shoulder and tugged her bra up, revealing her needy breasts. “Spoils of war and all that.” His voice thickened.

Cool air caressed her flesh, providing an erotic contrast to the heat boiling inside her. Her skin ached, and a hollowness echoed throughout her. Even though they were playing, enough truth hinted in the air to flutter hunger through her abdomen. “Deacan.”

His head lifted, as did her skirt. He wasted no time removing her panties and instead snapped the sides away. His jeans were shed, the movement so quick she didn’t have time to move. Then he was above her.

Gaze to gaze, groin to groin. “Nora?”

“Yes,” she breathed. “Definitely, yes.”

He didn’t ask twice. A hard lunge of his hips, and he sheathed himself completely.

Pain zipped through her, followed by an unreal pleasure. The combination overwhelmed her, and she closed her eyes.

His hold tightened on her wrists. “Open yer eyes.”

She blinked several times, a strangled plea buried in her breath. He possessed her, so strong, so male. No way could she have moved, even if she’d wanted to. Not for the first time, she wondered if she’d even come close to plumbing the depths of Deacan McDougall during their marriage.

Keeping her gaze, his expression inscrutable and his eyes filled with a light she couldn’t quite decipher, he pulled out and then shoved back in, setting up a pounding that rocked the headboard against the wall.

She gasped, her eyes widening at the powerful treatment. Even so, her hips lifted to take more, whether her mind could or not. The second she rubbed against him, he thrust harder, controlling her body, not allowing her to move. More of his weight descended on her, preventing even the small lifting of her hips.

All she could do was take it.

An orgasm rushed through her so quickly she could only gasp. He kept pounding, sweat drifting off his chin and onto her chest. It was raw and way too real. At the thought, electricity uncoiled inside her. Deep inside, way deeper than she’d known existed, the unfurling swept her up. She stiffened, trying to fight, needing to clutch at any semblance of control.

The hard pounding was slipping from the warmth of pleasure into the heat of pain, and she couldn’t stop the fire. She detonated, her body arching, his name spilling from her lips. With a smile akin to a snarl, he shoved hard inside her, his body jerking with his release.

Moments later, her heart thundering and her breath panting out, she tried to back away from the intimacy and return to playfulness, even as her eyelids began to droop. “I guess you won, right?” she murmured sleepily.

The glimmer in his eyes somehow darkened even further. “Not yet, no. But I fully intend to.”

Chapter Nine

Early morning, after dropping Nora off at her temporary CDC office, Deke finished searching Zach Barter’s makeshift hospital room. The plastic gloves covering Deke’s hands pulled at his skin, and he fought the urge to rip them off.

Instead, he gingerly grabbed a leather-bound book from the night table to open it. Genius boy kept a diary, and he’d obviously left the journal to be found.

Deke sighed. He had an ex-wife who hadn’t quite realized her importance in his life, a possible bacteria from outer space that was killing people, a dead president, a weak vice president, and a stalker he needed to stop but not kill. To think that just the week before he’d been trying to mellow out his life.

Taking a deep breath, he flipped through the beginning pages of Zach’s writing, noting equations, theories, and quotations about Einstein. Every once in a while, personal notes about Zach having a crush or wanting to ask a girl out but lacking the courage filled the pages.

Deke turned to the last couple of days. Pencil drawing after pencil drawing of Nora. At her desk, staring dreamily into space, nude on a bed.

Zach had gotten her tits wrong. They were rounder at the base.

The fire of his ancestors blazed through Deke’s chest. He continued to read as Zach detailed how much he hated his former self for being such a wimp. The last entry stole Deke’s breath.

I’m finally free. No worries, no concerns. How could I have been so fucking weak? So unwilling to take what I want? This fever created a god. I’ll take what I crave, and tonight I start with Nora. That bitch has ignored me long enough.

HEY SCOTTISH DICKHEAD: I put this in big letters so you’d see it, you fucking idiot. You might be a soldier, and you might have fucked her, but I’m smarter than you. I’ll get her, and she’ll be mine. You lost her.

Deke shut the journal. Fury made his hands shake. Scorpius had taken a nice guy and turned him sociopathic. Did the bacteria work harder, stronger, on already nice people? Impossible.

Zach had even left him a note, so focused was he on Nora.

Slowly, deliberately, Deke withdrew his phone and called his men. “I want Barter found and right now.” The fact that Zach had tried to kidnap Nora was just the beginning.

Obviously Zach’s brain scans hadn’t told the whole truth. Or any truth, really. Deke left the room and endured the many decontamination steps before emerging into clean air. He jogged for the stairwell, his mind focused, his hands calm. Training dictated he drop into a mode of thought ready for action, and he allowed himself to do just that. The last thing he wanted to do was scare Nora off now, but every instinct he possessed bellowed she was in danger.

The real kind.

He’d stand between her and any threat, whether she liked it or not. This danger to Nora had forced the soldier, the warrior, deep down inside him to the surface again. To face the light of day.

He couldn’t help but wonder if the return had always been inevitable.

Hours after Deke had rocked her world in a way that left her both satisfied and incredibly uneasy, and hours after not enough sleep, Nora worked with her best friend handling test tubes, meteorites, and a piece of brain matter from a dead student. Finally all of the supplies had arrived. For now, as she worked, special lights illuminated the space, and Lynne looked more like a Martian in the white protective suit than an expert in biological contaminants.

“Any news on Zach?” Lynne asked, dropping blue liquid on a slide.

“No.” Nora stretched her back and slipped a slide under her microscope. “Everyone is looking, but so far, nothing.”

Lynne nodded. “We’ll find him, and we’ll cure him.”

Hopefully. “I know.” Nora wrinkled her nose in the helmet. “How’s Bobbi doing?”

Lynne snorted. “Not great. I hadn’t realized the depth of her quick crush. She’s a maniac on social media right now trying to find Zach. It’ll probably work, too.”

Good. “Whatever works. So long as we get him back.” Nora adjusted the device. “We’ve had twenty more cases reported throughout the country since last night.”

“I know.” Lynne shook her head. “We’ll figure it out.”

“Yes,” Nora said.

“Speaking of crushes, with all the danger, we haven’t had a time to talk, just the two of us. The Scot is every bit as sexy as I expected,” Lynne said through the headset in her suit.

Nora rolled her eyes and leaned closer to peer through the microscope lens. “You’re looking for a biological killer. Worry about my love life later.”

“Aha,” Lynne said, peering to look into a different microscope. “You said love. You luuuuv him.”

“Shut up,” Nora said without heat. “You’re one of the most respected scientists in your field, and you sound like you’re in junior high.”

Lynne snorted, the sound emerging tinny from the helmet. “Talk about protesting too much.” She paused and reached for another slide. “I have to tell you, when he dipped into that brogue of his, I almost orgasmed.”

Nora chuckled. “Knock it off, Lynnie. Last I checked, you were dating one of the most powerful men on the planet.” The guy now second in line to the presidency. How weird was that?

Lynne shook her head. “Ehh. He’s kind of intense, and right now I have my hands full.”

Nora blew out air. “I know.”

“Hmm.” One of the many whirling machines beeped, and Lynne moved to read the computer printout. Turning, she read a large computer monitor. “Interesting. My mutation, the green vial, is resistant to everything and kills instantly.” She turned and frowned, the expression oddly garish through her faceplate. “This may be the most dangerous biological weapon I’ve ever touched.”

Holy shit. Nora shook her head, her heart kicking into gear. “We have to destroy it.”

“I know.” Lynne turned back toward the computer. “Not until we cure Scorpius, just in case there’s something in the concoction, in how quickly it divides, that might help. If we could duplicate the speed of division with a containing agent, we might be able to isolate the bacteria and starve it to death.”

A bacteria from outer space. “This whole thing is crazy,” Nora said.

“I know, and it’s the find of a century. We need to get a handle on it before we announce to the world, however.”

“I really don’t like the public being told the president died from a stroke.”

“Me either,” Lynne murmured.

Nora swallowed, her mind spinning. They’d found bacteria in the middle of a meteorite from somewhere else, and now she was part of a governmental cover-up. It was too fantastic to think about.

Nora’s gaze caught on a series of vials with different colored liquids. “That’s quite an array.”

Lynne glanced over her shoulder. “Yes. So far the green shade is the most dangerous, and the blue the most interesting. We have hope.”

Nora nodded. She stretched her back and winced when something popped. “It’ll be an hour before my newest test results are ready. How about I head down to the cafeteria and grab us sodas and something healthy? Maybe pizza?”

Lynne chuckled. “Make mine macaroni and cheese.”

“Fair enough.” Nora waddled into the first decontamination area and followed all protocols. Nearly twenty minutes later, she finally emerged into cool, air-conditioned air. Fighting a shiver, she strode to her locker and drew out a sweatshirt and her key card.

The door opened behind her, and she turned with a greeting. The words stalled in her throat. “Zach,” she whispered.

He nodded and stepped inside. The door swished shut and locked automatically. He’d dyed his blond hair a deep brown, and a new dark suit covered his body. A wild glint lit his eyes. “Nora.”

She gulped and tried to look normal. The FBI disguise was a good one since so many new agents were suddenly milling around the temporary CDC labs. “How did you get in here?”

He smiled, the expression a parody of the sweet look he’d given her the previous month. “I borrowed a card. No big deal. Why do you keep forgetting I’m smarter than, well, everybody else around here?”

Nora tried to reach for the phone in her pocket. “What happened to the guard outside?”

Zach drew a gun from behind his back and pointed it at her. “He’s in a supply closet right now, hopefully bleeding out. Now toss your phone over here.” He flicked the gun toward where Lynne stood beyond the glass doors, her eyes wide. “Move, and I’ll shoot you,” he mouthed clearly. He waited for her nod before turning back to Nora. “Now.”

Lynne was across the entire lab from a phone. Nora took out her phone and tossed it at him.

He dodged to the side, and the phone spun by to smash against the wall. “Good enough.” He gestured toward a chair. “Sit down.”

She took a seat, her gaze meeting Lynne’s frantic one. “Zach, I don’t really think you want to hurt me,” Nora said.

“I don’t.” Zach walked toward her and yanked a pair of handcuffs from his jacket. “From the guard. Moron.”

Panic bubbled up in Nora, and she tried to push off the chair. Zach clicked her hands into place, securing her to the leg of the heavy oak desk. She could remain seated, but her arm dangled at a painful level. “Please let me go.”

“We’ll leave in a minute.” He turned and approached the lab, yanking open the two protective doors and kicking stoppers into place to keep them open.

“Zachary, don’t go in there,” Nora hissed.

He continued on. “Why not? I’ve already had the infection, and since it’s Scorpius, you can’t catch it in the air. Now just sit there and shut up.”

She shook her head, tugging uselessly on the cuff. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I’m curious about this bugger,” Zach said, crossing toward Lynne.

Shit. The woman was hampered by the big suit and wouldn’t be able to fight well. She backed away, her hands up. “Nora, how tight you bound?” Lynne yelled.

“Can’t move. Cuffed,” Nora screamed back. “If you can get by him, run.”

Lynne winced. “The suit is probably contaminated.”

Zach laughed, the sound high and slightly off. “What exactly is this bacteria, doc? I’ve felt better in the last week than I have in years. Years and years. Talk to me.”

Lynne’s gaze sharpened. “You feel different since recuperating?”

Zach walked toward her, smiling as she backed away and hit the counter. “I do. No more doubt, no more silly thoughts. I’m meant to be here and get what I want.”

Nora’s chest compressed. “Zach, leave her alone. Please. I’ll go with you right now.”

He turned and smiled, his expression the closest to evil Nora had ever seen. “You’ll go with me when I’m ready.”

Taking advantage of his momentary change in focus, Lynne dodged forward and hit him in the gut. He turned, faster than Nora would’ve thought, and tackled Lynne to the floor.

Nora screamed as loud as she could.

Zach released the zipper and yanked the helmet off Lynne before straddling her. She yelled, trying to fight him off, her gloved hands useless. Laughing, Zach reached up for one of the test tubes.

“No!” Nora jerked against the cuffs. He’d grabbed the deadly green strain, and they had no idea what it’d do to a person. “Let her go. Please.”

For answer, he flicked off the cover and shoved the end in Lynne’s mouth. She coughed, shoving at him, her body jerking. Green spat over her face. The vial clinked on the floor. Then, almost in slow motion, Zach slapped his hand over Lynne’s mouth, forcing her to swallow several times. She flapped against him, her legs kicking the tiles.

Finally, Zach stood, turned, and shot a back kick into one of the monitors. Sparks crackled, and the screen tumbled over the desk to the floor. In an almost manic series of hits and kicks, he destroyed every piece of equipment in the lab.

Lynne turned over, coughing, and tried to crawl away. Her chest heaved and a mournful groan rumbled up from her chest.

Nora struggled against the cuffs, tears blurring her vision. “Inject the blue. It’s your only chance.”

Zach watched Lynne, his face passive. Then he smiled as she pulled herself up the side cabinet to stand, weaving back and forth.

“Fuck, it hurts. Hurts so bad,” Lynne mumbled, both hands clapping against her temples. “God, please help me.”

Zach tipped back his head and cackled. “I am God, and I’m not likely to help you. Bitch.” Venom filled his words.

Nora shook her head, trying to clear her eyes. “Leave her alone.”

Lynne dropped to her knees, her hands clutching her chest, fumbling up for the blue vial.

“Zach, please help her,” Nora yelled, fear ripping into her. “Drink the blue, Lynne. Now. We can make more.”

Lynne’s eyes widened, a continuous keening coming from her until her voice cracked. She grasped a syringe and filled it with blue liquid, her hands shaking. The vial dropped to the floor.

Sucking in air, she stuck the needle into her arm and depressed the plunger. She dropped all the way down, face-first, her body going into convulsions. The scream that erupted from her sounded like it came from the depths of hell.

Aqua blue filled the visible veins at the back of her neck, brightening and then winking out.

Nora gasped, her gaze on her friend.

Zach frowned and stepped over debris to reach the downed woman. Humming to himself, he reached down and flipped her over. Quick motions had the suit removed. Frowning, he ripped open her shirt and unclasped her bra.

Blue glowed up from Lynne’s skin. How was that possible? Nora shook her head, trying to clear her vision. Lynne’s heart was a bright greenish blue, cascading out in arteries and veins. Blue morphing into a bright aqua. She lay limp, unconscious.

Zach palmed a breast, and she didn’t move.

Nora gagged. “Let her go. Zach, this isn’t you. Please.”

He looked up and squinted as if he’d forgotten her. Then he smiled. With another almost absent pinch to Lynne’s cheek, he stood.

He stalked toward Nora, a bizarre smile lifting his lips.

Fear ricocheted through her. She hissed out air, her feet kicking to somehow move the chair. “Leave me alone.”

He reached her and bent down, his face an inch from hers.

She stopped breathing and pressed back into the cushions.

Zach licked his lips.

Nora shoved down a whimper of terror.

The door opened, and one of Lynne’s techs strode in. His name was John or Joe, or something like that. “Where’s the guard?” he asked, munching on a bagel.

Zach shot forward and tackled him into the metal door. His head impacted with the sound of a melon on concrete, and he slid to the tile unconscious.

“There’s no way to get you out of here unwillingly. Not through all the hallways and security.” Zach sighed. “Any chance you’ll come with me?”

Nora slowly shook her head. The man had completely lost it, but he had to have known she wouldn’t cooperate. “Why did you come?”

He shrugged. “I wanted to see the green vial and what it would do. My normal curiosity seems to have moved into obsession. Like it has for you. I have a couple of things to take care of, and then I’ll be back for you.” He paused at the door and blew her a kiss. “You and me, Nora. It’s gonna be great.”

Chapter Ten

Deke set his gun on the night table, his senses on full alert. Behind him, Nora perched on his bed, way too quiet.

He sighed, his gaze remaining on the darkness outside his window. His gut roiled, and his fingers curled with the need to extract vengeance. With great pain. “Are you sure you’re not infected?”

“I’m sure,” she said softly. “The infection is spread by bodily fluids.”

He shut the blinds and turned to face her, masking his expression. “So only kissing, sex, blood, urine, semen?”

She shook her head. “Those for sure, but it’s like any bacteria. If it’s on a surface, and you touch the surface and then your eyes, nose, or mouth, you can catch it.”

He nodded, his chest heavy. The memory of having to wait while they’d performed so many tests on her would haunt him forever. “It’s contained for now?”

She winced. “Lynne’s team got her into isolation, and she’s being treated with the highest protocols. Then they disinfected the entire room and everything in it. I stayed with her for a couple of hours while you looked for Zach, but she hasn’t regained consciousness.”

Deke scrubbed both hands down his face. “Our biggest problem now is Zach Barter.”

“I don’t know what’s going to happen next. He wanted to infect Lynne, so maybe he wants to infect other people. Perhaps part of the bacteria’s strength, when it strips the brain, is to push for more infections. There are contagions with similar symptoms.” Nora clasped both arms around her knees, looking unbelievably fragile.

Deke remained still. “Great.”

Nora leaned her chin on her knees. “You should’ve seen Lynne’s chest. It turned blue. I mean, her heart glowed almost aqua. I’ve never seen anything like it. Ever.”

“You’re sure you’re not infected,” Deke said.

Nora huffed. “No, I’m not infected, they did plenty of tests and they know how the bacteria works.”

His temper pricked his shoulders as if the old fury really wanted out. Yet his woman had been through an ordeal, and now wasn’t the time for him to lose it. “If there’s a chance you’re infected, then I want you in the hospital with doctors all around.”

She dropped her gaze. “He didn’t touch me after being in the containment area. There’s no way, Deke. I’m going to head back into the lab and find something new to work on while I wait for more results.”

“No.” Deke kicked off his boots and set a knee on the bed, the pressure in his chest easing. He believed her, and thank the gods. All of them. “We have a couple of hours to sleep, and then I need to go out hunting again.” He’d spent hours trying to find Barter, with no luck; he had to contain the bastard, and soon. “Now we sleep.”

Dark smudges marred the pale skin beneath Nora’s eyes, and weariness hunched her shoulders, yet her eyes shot sparks. “Just because we’re in a crisis right now doesn’t give you the right to tell me what to do.”

He lifted his chin. “You’re right.”

She blinked. “I am.”

“Aye. I’m telling you what to do because we’re together, and it’s my job to keep you safe. If you’re passing out from exhaustion, it makes my part more difficult.” He kept his voice level and tried to add some humor, but he spoke the truth, and damn it, she could tell.

“We’re barely together, and that doesn’t give you rights,” she muttered.

He needed sleep, as did she. So he skipped the argument and instead grabbed her up and shoved her under the covers. Her halfhearted struggle did nothing but make him more determined. Then he reached over his head to turn off the lamp before lying down.

“You’re not getting in?” she asked, her voice small in the darkness.

“No.” Deke could get enough sleep lying on top of his covers. Getting through the security system he’d installed that morning would be nearly impossible for a guy not trained in systems. Even so, Deke would be prepared. “Go to sleep, Nora.”

“Fine.” She rolled over, and even the rustle sounded huffy.

He shut his eyes and relaxed his body from the bottom to the top as he’d been trained. The slightest of movements in the bed caught his attention. Then another. A soft, muffled sob came from next to him. Well, shit. He stood and kicked off his pants and shirt before sliding under the covers and turning her to face him. Her fight this time was a little more impressive, but he was patient, and before long, he’d tucked her wet face into his neck. “Let it out.”

She smacked his ribs. “I thought you had to be vigilant.”

He sighed against her hair. “No way can Barter get inside this place without my knowing it.” Truth be told, Deke had wanted to sleep on top of the bed to keep from reaching for her. Even now, with her so warm and soft against him, his groin stirred.

She hiccupped, and the slight knock of her knee against his balls seemed deliberate. “You’re not the boss here, and I’m going back to work, jackass. Now let me go, and get out of my way.”

So she wanted to fight, did she? A good brawl would make her forget her troubles for a while, but she’d have to cry it out and face them sooner or later. “No.”

She pushed against his chest. “I’m not going to sleep, so I might as well head back into the lab and work.”

“You’re exhausted, and that’s where mistakes are made. Rest a little, and you can go back to work.”

She shoved against him, her nails digging in. “Let me go.”

“No.” His quick smack to her ass reverberated up his arm. “Knock it off.”

Her gasp heated his collarbone. “Oh, you did not,” she hissed.

The roar of his blood through his veins filled his head, and he struggled to contain himself. “Go to sleep, or I’ll do it again. I’m in no mood, Nora.” Wrong thing to say, and he knew it the second the words left his mouth. But enough was enough, and his hold on his temper was rapidly failing. A sociopath wanted his woman enough to taunt Deke in a fucking journal. “Go. To. Sleep.”

She kicked against him and landed a punch near his mouth.

Damn it. He rolled them over, flattening her to the bed.

She got off another good punch, this time nailing his bottom lip.

“Fuck.” He grabbed her hands and manacled her wrists.

Her tight nipples scraped across his chest, and she groaned. Then she widened her legs, making room for him. “Deacan,” she breathed.

“No.” He could barely make out her face in the darkness, so he lowered his closer. His emotions were raw, and he needed time to gather himself. “I’m garna release you, and you’re going to roll over and go to sleep. You feel me?”

She wiggled her butt in the bed and rubbed her wet cunt against his dick. “I definitely feel you.”

Hunger clawed through him. He shut his eyes, struggling for control. While he understood her need to escape reality, and sex was a good way to do that, he wasn’t ready. Gentleness lay nowhere within him at the moment. Shit. From the second he’d busted his ass to get to the hospital and seen her, so pale and frightened, huddled under a blanket as the medical teams tested her, he’d wanted to beat somebody bloody. So he took a deep breath and slowly released her wrists. “Nora, heed me.”

“I’m trying to heed you,” she hissed, rubbing herself against him.

He swallowed, his biceps quivering with the fight to keep from implanting himself so deep danger never found her again. “I’m not in control.” Damn, he hated admitting that. “If I take you, baby, it’s gonna be my way, and that ain’t gentle.” Nowhere near, actually.

She laughed, the sound deep and throaty. “No kidding. Geez. What do you call the other day?”

He paused and blinked. The other day? What other day? Realization dawned. “That was play. We were playing.” The woman really didn’t know him if she thought that was him out of control.

She leaned up and licked along his jawline. “Let’s play again.”

His cock hardened to the point of pain. His chest burned, and his vision hazed. “Let go. Time to sleep.” His voice sounded as if he’d eaten glass.

She shifted against him, her nails scraping his palm. “Stop being such a pussy. You want me? Take me.”

His body actually jerked as if held by invisible chains. Her use of the word was deliberate, and he bit down a retort. He drew in air through his nose, trying with every ounce of strength he had not to take her up on the offer. Or dare. “Trust me, Nora.”

“I do.” She freed her hands and reached for his hair to yank, and the pain shot straight from his scalp to his throbbing dick. “You’ve always held back, haven’t you.” Wonder filled her voice as she made the statement that didn’t remotely sound like a question.

“Aye.” The breath caught in his chest, and he forced it to remain there. Held. Waiting. Like a jaguar about to strike, everything in him coiled.

She went still beneath him as if instinctively knowing how close he was to the precipice. Then slowly, with pure deliberation, she released his hair and caressed down his neck, back, and buttocks, her nails lightly scraping. She reached his hip bone, and he stopped breathing.

Tension filled the room, smothering any oxygen still left.

Then she slid over his hip and wrapped her hand around the base of his shaft. Tight.

He growled, the sound more animalistic than human.

Her shoulders came off the bed, and her lips brushed against his. “You want me, Deacan McDougall? Then fucking take me.”

Nora knew the second his control snapped. She not only heard it, she could feel it. After the fear of the day, after the sadness, she just wanted to get lost. Pushing Deacan McDougall to lose control was by no means a smart move. But it was all she had, and once she’d started, she couldn’t stop.

He reared back and flipped her around.

“Hey—” she protested, trying to lift her face from the pillow.

He grabbed her hair and pulled back—hard. She scrambled up onto all fours to keep the ache at bay, her mind swirling. Her chest filled until her lungs protested, and she tried to breathe out. Deke had taken her from behind before, and this shouldn’t feel like a big deal. But something . . . was different.

One broad hand was planted between her shoulder blades and shoved down. Her arms gave, and her face hit the pillow again, leaving her ass in the air and exposed. Desire, raw and hot, warmed her head to toe. He grasped one cheek and squeezed, shoving a knee between her legs to widen them. “Move from this position, Nora, and I swear to fucking God I’ll make sure you don’t sit again by giving you the spanking I should’ve years ago.”

A protest rose in her, and she began to lift her head, when the bed shifted. He pulled up on her thighs, tilting her, and his mouth found her core.

She cried out, sparks of light flashing behind her eyes. Strong, determined, and with a mission, he ate at her. From behind, his head between her legs, somehow he found the right angle. No finesse, none of the teasing licks he usually used. The scruff on his jaw scraped her thighs, and he went at her for his pleasure. Damn hers.

The first orgasm hit her with a flash of light, and yet she fought it, fighting him. But the waves took her over, pounding through her, and she came down with a soft moan. He moved again, and his fingers replaced his mouth. His chest arched over her back, and his heated breath brushed her ear.

She shook her head. “I can’t.”

“You will,” he said, his free hand squeezing one nipple, his cock hard against the back of her thigh. “Your mind may not be clear, or your heart. But your body knows who owns it.” His brogue thickened to the point she could barely understand him. “Before this night is over, I’ll hear it from you.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but he pinched her clit, and she went off again. His talented fingers prolonged the ecstasy until she moaned into the pillow, pleading for relief. Finally, he relented.

Air whooshed from her lungs, and she turned her head on the pillow to breathe.

Both hands grabbed her hips, he levered himself up, and in one hard thrust impaled his cock so deep, he’d always be there. She gasped, and small tremors rippled inside her. That quickly, that easily, a renewed craving for him consumed her.

He tethered her hair again, this time drawing back. “Now you get up,” he said. She planted her hands and knees and rose, forced to arch her back as he kept a tight hold. The sensation of being controlled, of being vulnerable, filled her with a hunger so hot it burned.

His thighs settled on the outside of hers, one hand tangled in her hair, and the other clamped on her hip strong enough to bruise. Then he thrust. Harder and faster than she would’ve thought possible, he hammered into her, taking everything. Her arms trembled, and her vision hazed.

The devastating pleasure he pounded into her edged close to pain, all the sharper for the thin line. A set of mini-detonations exploded inside her, and she gasped, her body stiffening. The next thrust threw her into such an intense orgasm, she vibrated head to toe and screamed his name.

Her body stopped shaking, and her sex relaxed.

Still, he pounded.

“You’re killing me,” she moaned, trying to free her head.

His mouth nipped at her earlobe. “Definitely not my intention.” He reached around her and slid two fingers along her clit.

She moaned. “God, Deke. So much.”

He continued to hammer into her without even a hitch in his pace, his fingers sliding, plucking, and pinching. Sensation upon sensation whirled through her, taking over, stealing her will. She rose higher and higher, her breath catching, her heart maybe stopping. Time extended with no beginning, with no ending, and he showed no sign of slowing. Of weakening. As if he had a point to make, one he’d held back, he gave her everything he had without mercy.

She kept climbing, bombarded by sensation. When she reached the top, the world stopped. Then she fell.

She screamed his name, pummeled by waves, the explosion so powerful she’d never recover. He held her tight, his body jerking as he found his own release.

Then he stopped moving. Still inside her, with the aftermath of the pounding still echoing in the silence, he placed a searing kiss between her shoulder blades.

He released her hair, and her head dropped forward. Breath panted out from her lungs, and her mind blanked. Sleep half claimed her, right then and there. Deacan pulled out and turned her around.

She flopped onto her back, her body beyond exhaustion. Everything inside her quieted almost to the point of numbness. Yep. She was going to be sore the next morning.

He smoothed the hair off her forehead and traced a path between her breasts to her still-vibrating core, his broad hand hot. “Say it,” he murmured, his green gaze intent.

She frowned, trying to follow his words. “Hmm.”

His hand flattened over her already sore mound, and her eyelids flew wide open to study him as a threat. “I said to say it, or we’ll go for round two.” The set of his jaw didn’t allow for any misunderstanding.

She blinked, her body too satiated to find any outrage. “You’re such a throwback. Highlander.”

His chin lifted. “Aye. Now, Nora.”

Sleep tried once again to entice her, and she wanted to fall into it. “Fine.” She yawned. “You win. I’m yours. Do with me what you will . . . after I sleep.”

In the early dawn light, his face changed. Not in an obvious way, and not in a way she would’ve noticed had she not been watching. What she saw there was absolute and carved in stone as ancient as those around his homeland. “Again, Nora. Without the yawn, in this moment and in this place. Ye will say it.”

Her mind cleared to razor-sharp focus, the feeling unpleasant after her dreamy state. Her body felt well taken and overcome, and her heart beat in tune with his. On some level, a purely feminine one that had nothing to do with logic or reason, she felt his call. His demand. She also knew, after she’d pushed him, after what they’d just shared, he wouldn’t allow her to evade or diminish the moment. He wouldn’t let her deny what had passed between them, whether she liked it or not. Whether she fully understood it or not. “Fine, but it goes both ways. If I’m yours, you’re all mine.” It was as close as she could come to finding some balance.

“True. One more time. No qualification.” The look on his face, determined and dark, stole her breath.

Nerves tingled across her abdomen at the possessive tone, and she had to take a deep breath before speaking. Sometimes words held meaning that changed lives, and he was demanding acknowledgment of something easier left unsaid. Knowing full well what he was doing, to be sure.

Yet she had to answer. “I’m yours.” She gave him the only words that would satisfy him.

His chin lifted and for several long, quiet moments, he studied her. “You are mine. And you won’t be forgetting it again.” He lay next to her and rolled her into his embrace, covering them with a blanket.

Warmth seduced her, but something, a flare of awareness, opened her eyes. His hard body all but enclosed her. “I never really knew you, did I?” she murmured.

His breath brushed her hair. “You knew half of me.”

She sighed and closed her eyes. “Now I know all.”

“Aye, you do. God help you, Nora.” His hold tightened. “Now you have all of me.”

Chapter Eleven

After only two hours of sleep with Nora in his arms, Deke jerked his truck to a stop in a small driveway just as a local squad car screeched to a halt behind him. “Stay here,” he muttered to her, halting her reach for the door handle. When the call had come in, he hadn’t had time to get her to safety, and he sure as shit wasn’t leaving her at his apartment, alarm system or not.

She nodded, her face pale, her eyes wide. “The newest nanoparticle results will be available in about two hours, maybe three. I need to be there to see if the charges reversed when the particles found the bacteria. I’ve been working with zinc oxide nanoparticles, since Lynne thought zinc affected Scorpius somehow.”

He had no clue what charges she was talking about. “I’ll make sure you’re back by then.” He jumped from the truck and squinted in the sun before giving a short nod to a gnarled Metro Police deputy. “The FBI has secured the scene. Keep the neighbors back.”

The cop rested his hand on his hip, his bushy eyebrows rising toward Nora.

“Keep an eye on her. She doesn’t come near the house.” Waiting for a grim nod, Deke stalked toward the front door and knocked, leather gloves covering his hands and making them sweat. An FBI agent in full black suit opened the door. “What?”

Deke flashed his badge, the serious one nobody fucked with.

The agent’s eyes widened, and he stepped back. “All righty. Want to tell me why I was called down to secure an attempted rape scene?”

Deke sighed. “No. Go outside and wait for the CDC.”

The guy pivoted and took off, mumbling something sounding suspiciously like dickhead.

A trilling ambulance siren blasted through the day, and Deke glanced back toward the cop, who waited far away. “Don’t let them come in unless the CDC is with them and geared up.” Deke had called the CDC workers at the hospital the second he’d gotten the report of the assault.

“Yep,” the cop said, hand on his holster.

Deke walked around the vestibule to a quaint living room where a young woman sported a nasty black eye and split lip.

Anger and lingering fear darkened her pretty blue eyes. “Who are you?” she asked.

“Hi, Mandy. My name is Deke McDougall, and I’m with the police.” He remained on the other side of the room to keep from spooking her, having no problem lying about his affiliation. “An ambulance is coming, and they’re going to take you to the hospital.”

She shook her head. “I’m fine. Fought the prick off.”

Deke nodded. “I know, and good job, by the way. You sure it was Zach Barter?”

“Yes.” She fingered the crack in her bottom lip and winced. “We went to undergrad together and have kept in touch. When he got into D.C. last week, he gave me a call, and I hoped we’d get a chance to meet up.” She flushed. “He’s cute, you know?” Red stained her cheeks.

Deke lowered his voice. “This wasn’t your fault, and don’t think for a second that it was. Tell me what happened.”

She patted the couch next to her. “I’m not scared. You can come sit down.”

He sighed. “Honey, I’m going to tell you something, and I don’t want you to get too worried. Okay?”

She blinked and her movements halted. “That doesn’t sound good.”

“It’s not. There’s a possibility Zach is infected with some sort of bacterial pathogen.” Deke tried for reassurance, but as the ambulance pulled into the driveway, panic crossed the girl’s face. “Stay calm. Trust me.”

She pressed a hand to her chest.

“You’re probably just fine.” Deke ignored the ruckus behind him. “But we need to make sure, you know?”

She gulped, and tears filled her eyes. “Okay.”

Deke nodded. “Tell me what happened.”

She glanced beyond him and then focused back. “Zach called, and I invited him to dinner. When he got here, he came in, and almost immediately, he grabbed me and kissed me.”

Fuck it all. Deke nodded. “Then?”

“He tried to rip off my shirt, and I panicked. Starting fighting back. Hit him in the nose.” A tear fell down her cheek.

“Good job.” Deke glanced over his shoulder to see two workers from the CDC donning protective gear outside on the lawn. “Did he bleed?” Deke asked.

“Yes. We fought some more, and then he ran out.” Mandy shrugged. “I don’t understand.”

Neither did Deke, but it seemed that Zach had tried to infect the girl. He moved to the side. “Thank you. I know this is difficult. I’m going to let the CDC take over, and they’ll get you to the hospital just to run some routine tests. As soon as I can get in to see you, I will.”

Fear all but cascaded from her, but she lifted her chin. “How bad is this?”

He shook his head. “I’m sure it’s fine, but we need to double-check. Do you have any idea where Zach would’ve gone?”

She rubbed her eye. “No. Sorry.”

He forced a smile, hoping it held some reassurance. His gut was brewing, and he didn’t like it one bit. “Be strong, sweetheart. Don’t worry. Everything will be fine.” He moved out of the way and walked outside as the CDC workers, looking like something from a science fiction movie, approached the house.

The first one, a short black guy, stopped near him with a plastic bag. “Did you touch anything?”

“I just knocked on the door.” Deke slid off the gloves to deposit in the bag. “She’s hurt and she’s scared. Be easy with her.”

The guy nodded. “Not my first rodeo, pal.”

Deke paused and then moved toward the cop. “Keep the onlookers away from the scene. More FBI should be arriving soon.”

The officer returned to his squad car with an uneasy glance at the CDC guys before turning around. “We’ve been canvassing per FBI instructions with the picture of the suspect. Two restaurants blocks over said he’d been in earlier.”

Deke frowned. Jesus. “Did they mention any weird behavior?”

“Not really. Just said the guy ate from the salad bar.”

“Fuck. Call them back and shut them down. Then call the CDC and have them go test the restaurants, especially salad dressing or anything he could’ve contaminated.” Deke paused at his door.

The deputy winced. “You think he spit in the salad dressing?” “Hell if I know.” Deke sighed and jumped into his truck. Apparently the cop had figured out there was a contagion on the loose. Of course, with the CDC stomping around in full suits, it wasn’t a huge leap.

“Well?” Nora asked, her arms crossed.

He glanced at her, not liking the pallor of her usually tan skin. They had things to discuss, and now wasn’t the time. “Zach attacked her, but she’s okay. I mean, depending on whether he was able to infect her or not.”

Nora shook her head. “It’s like he wanted to infect her.”

“Yes, and it’s interesting he sought out somebody he already knew.” For whatever reason, Zach was fixated on Nora. “He’ll come for you again.”

She nodded. “Let him come.”

Now that was Deke’s badass woman. “Right. For now, I have to go coordinate a manhunt. You want to stay with me or go back to the CDC labs?”

She swallowed. “CDC labs. I want to check on Lynne and see if I can do anything.”

That’s what Deke had figured. “We will have a serious chat, and soon.”

She cut him a look. “Uh-huh.”

He ignited the engine just as his radio beeped.

“McDougall,” the FBI dispatcher called.

“Yes,” he answered.

“We have a report of a rape over on Miller Street, three blocks from your current location. Student from the college was knocked out and just woke up to call nine-one-one,” the dispatch said, her voice crisp.

A rock hit Deke’s gut. “I’m on my way. Did she mention a suspect?”

“No. Just said it was a blond guy who looked like a movie star from the fifties.”

Shit. Zach Barter.

After dropping by the lab to discover the experiments were still running, Nora was frisked by a Secret Service agent and then escorted through another hallway to find Lynne. A man stood outside a plastic bubble, his gaze on Lynne, lying inside the bubble and all alone. The last round of tests had been conducted, and the CDC health workers had gone to decontaminate and find some answers.

The extra security made sense, but Secret Service?

Lynne sat up in her hospital bed, pale and wan, her chest glowing a bright blue. “Nora, meet Bret Atherton.”

Nora stood up straighter. Aha. The man now second in line to the presidency. “Mr. Speaker.”

Bret Atherton half turned, deep blue eyes twinkling. “Bret.”

“Okay.” Tight and trim, he stood to about six-two with thick blond hair and worried eyes. Even with tension cutting lines into the sides of his mouth, charisma flowed from him. She had the oddest urge to study pheromones. “What’s the news?” she asked.

“None of it good,” he said, turning back to face Lynne. “The country is in unrest, and as soon as the truth gets out, the stock market will plummet. We have foreign enemies gearing up to make attacks because they think we’re weak, and they don’t even know the details about Scorpius yet, although their spies have been pretty effective.” He sighed. “Although at the moment, I’m more worried about Sweetcakes.”

Nora blinked. Once and then again. “Sweetcakes?”

He grinned. “She hates that.”

Yes, Lynne would hate being called that. Nora eyed her friend. “If you two need a moment, I can come back.”

“No,” Bret said. “I have to get back to work and figure out if we should make an announcement to the American public yet or not. The White House is against it at this point.” His gaze darkened as he studied Lynne. “If you need anything, you call me. I mean it.”

Lynne nodded. “I’ll talk to you later.”

Bret turned and nodded at Nora. “It was nice to meet you, Dr. Medina.”

“You too,” Nora said. “For the record, I think it’s time to announce.”

He nodded. “Me too.”

She waited until he and his guards had cleared the door and had time to walk down the hallway. “What the fuck is with the blue?” she asked through a speaker set into the wall, at a loss for any other words.

Lynne nodded and glanced down. “I know, right?” Her voice emerged weak, and the monitor to her left recorded a slowed heart rate. “The altered bacteria and experimental antibiotic did something freaky weird to me.”

Nora tried to smile. “I don’t think ‘freaky weird’ sounds very scientific.”

Lynne sighed and leaned back against the pillows. Sweat dotted her brow from the high fever. “It’s all we’ve got. So far, the tests show a ramped-up bacteria that’s attacking my cells. If it keeps going like this, I’ll be in a coma within a day or so.”

Tears pricked the back of Nora’s eyes, but she kept her voice calm. “You’ll be fine. We’ll figure this out.” Guilt threatened to swamp her. “I’m so sorry, Lynne.”

Lynne glanced her way and rolled her eyes. “Knock that shit off,” she said. “Seriously. Your shy assistant, Zach? Who would’ve thought it?”

Nora half chuckled. “Not me.” The idea was too crazy to believe. “Anyway, I’m sorry.”

Lynne glanced down at her chest, glowing a bright blue under the hospital gown. “I should’ve destroyed the green strain the second I saw its power. I thought maybe we could use it to contain the illness somehow.”

“I was there,” Nora said softly.

Lynne shut her eyes. “I know. Any news on poor Zach?”

Nora bit her lip, her chest aching. “Four attacks that we know of right now.” Two rapes and the other two assaults, both with an exchange of bodily fluids. The lunatic was trying to infect people. The idea that the man she’d known and trusted for months was capable of rape nauseated her. Deke, the Metro Police, and the FBI were dropping a net on D.C. in the hopes of catching him. If he got out, somehow made it to another city, things could get bad. Really bad.

Lynne opened her bloodshot eyes. “Let’s hope they find him soon.” She rubbed her lips with a pale hand.

Nora nodded. “They will. So Bret came to see you.”

“Yes.” Lynne coughed. “He’s under a lot of pressure. Don’t tell anybody, but the vice president is fighting heart problems.”

Wow. So the guy could actually be named president. “Do you love him?” Nora asked. If she could keep Lynne thinking happy thoughts, that wouldn’t hurt.

Lynne shrugged. “I don’t know. Sometimes I think so, and then sometimes he turns into a narcissistic asshat.”

“Isn’t that the very definition of a politician?” Nora asked. Heck. “Doesn’t a person have to be a narcissist to want to be the president?”

Lynne snorted and rubbed her eyes. “Probably.”

The woman needed to rest. Nora forced a smile. “Why don’t you get some sleep, and if I hear anything, I’ll let you know?”

Lynne snuggled back against the pillows, and her eyelids lowered to half-mast. “First, talk to me about anything but Scorpius or my love life. Let’s talk about your love life. Tell me about your Scot and if you’re going to screw it up again.”

The mention of Deke seared heat through Nora’s abdomen. She needed to get back to the lab, but whether she wanted to admit it or not, her friend was running out of time, and this might be the last time they talked. The thought made her chest hurt. So she dropped into a chair. “I’m out of my depth.”

“Good.” Lynne grimaced and readjusted her blankets. “You love him?”

Nora frowned. “We just started dating again.”

“So the hell what?” Lynne whispered, her voice cracking. “I’m beginning to see how short life is. You’ve loved that man since you were sixteen. Why the hell are you waffling?”

Because she hadn’t really known him. After the previous night, she’d caught a glimpse of the dangerous being she’d always suspected of living inside Deacan McDougall. “He’s too much, you know?” she said softly. “It’s like he was born in the wrong time.”

Lynne’s eyes glazed. “Maybe he was born in exactly the right time.” Her voice dropped to almost dreamy, almost trance-like. “If not this illness, then the next one. Or the one after that.” Her eyes fluttered closed.

Nora stood and approached the plastic, a chill trickling down her spine. “What do you mean?”

Lynne sighed. “At some point, human beings are done. You know that. Just waiting for the right pandemic.”

Nora gulped down fear. Sure, as a scientist, she knew the human race was due for a natural disaster, be it illness, comet strike, or nuclear bomb. But as a human with hope, she clung to faith that she’d survive it. “What’s your point, Lynnie?”

Lynne’s eyelids fluttered open. “We’ve forgotten that living and surviving are two different things. They require different skills.” She shut her eyes again and curled onto her side. Her voice, slight and whispery, continued. “Your Scot, dark as he may be, is a survivor. Don’t let go of him.” She fell into sleep.

Nora’s shoulders trembled, and she clasped her hands together. It was just the fever. Lynne had been talking nonsense from the fever. Yet no matter how hard she tried, how hard she rubbed her arms, Nora couldn’t ban the chill of truth.

At some point, human beings are done.

Chapter Twelve

Week 3

2,017 people dead
Likelihood of Scorpius Containment: Poor

Only the dead have seen the end of war.

—PLATO

After four full days of hunting Zach Barter, Deke was ready to kill somebody. He strode inside his temporary office at the CDC and tossed his phone across the desk. Fuck it all to hell. He’d stalked Barter through three states, only to come up empty in Virginia. The bastard was smart . . . and raping his way across the East.

When he wasn’t attacking women, he was spitting in restaurant salad dressings.

The determination to infect people might be part of the illness, but Deke didn’t give a shit.

Barter needed to be taken out, and now.

Infections were springing up in hospitals throughout the East, and soon the CDC would have no choice but to make an announcement. Hell on earth was about to break out, and although the government currently had a blanket over all news, at some point the truth would get out. Hell, the bloggers were already announcing a new pandemic.

Sure, he might be overreacting. But his gut had never failed him, and he didn’t figure it was off target right now, either.

A shadow at his door caught his attention, and he half turned. “Mr. Speaker.”

Bret Atherton strode inside while two agents covered the door. “I was just saying good-bye to Lynne. They fly her out in an hour.”

Deke nodded and gestured toward a chair before crossing to a file cabinet and fetching bourbon and two glasses to pour generously. “I spoke to Lynne an hour ago. She’s strong and stubborn.” He’d met the Speaker a few times throughout the last couple of years, and the guy seemed all right. “The hospital in Maryland is better equipped to care for her, and it’s a short jaunt there for you.”

“I know.” Bret took a chair and accepted a drink. “I just like her closer to me so I can control everything.”

Deke laughed. “That sounds so wrong.”

Bret lifted his gaze and smirked. “Yet you know exactly what I mean.”

“Aye.” Deke grinned because the guy was right. Deke had no intention of allowing Nora out of town until he captured Zach Barter. Guards were now posted throughout the laboratory section of the temporary CDC building. “How’s the president’s daughter? I haven’t had an update since I got back into town.”

“Same.” Bret took a deep drink of the potent liquid. “As the doctors have described it to me, the bacteria attacked her brain and stripped away her humanity.”

“We’ll find a cure,” Deke said.

“Maybe. Lynne’s brain scans are good, though.” Bret sighed. “Although the scientists couldn’t see anything abnormal in Zach Barter’s scans.”

“Maybe the scans aren’t a good way to determine anything,” Deke said.

“They’re not.” Bret shook his head. “Apparently not all brains show a change. Or rather, we don’t have pre-Scorpius scans to study in order to see if there’s a change. Brains differ. Even the brains of psychopaths vary. Some have abnormalities. Some don’t.”

Deke swirled the amber-colored drink in his glass. “Well, I’m hopeful for Lynne. What’s the latest on the infection?”

“At least two thousand are dead and ten times that have been infected. Maybe more. The infection is being spread by Zach and maybe others who’ve survived the fever.” Bret coughed. “I’ve convinced the White House we need to go public.”

“Good.” Deke studied one of the smartest men on the Hill. “Do you think we can still contain the illness?” he asked.

“No.”

Deke’s stomach rioted. “Me either.” The noises from outside grew louder. “Sounds like they’re about to take Lynne.”

Bret nodded and stood. “I already said good-bye, and I can’t go through it again. Call with any updates.” He set down the glass. “We need to secure a copy of the stronger Scorpius strain, the green one that infected Lynne, and send it to the lab up north. Just in case.”

Deke nodded. “I know.” Boy, would Nora be pissed. For now, he had to make good on a promise. He’d talked to Lynne earlier, and she’d asked him for a favor. One he’d grant without question.

If Nora agreed.

Exhaustion weighed down Nora’s limbs and made it difficult to hold back tears. The last several nights, she’d slept alone, when she’d slept, as Deke tried to find Zach. She’d missed him far more than was healthy.

To think on a normal week it’d be her turn to host bunko, and she’d be worrying about what salad to make. But she steeled her shoulders and spoke softly into the speaker set in the wall, her gaze on her friend in the plastic room. “You’ll be okay, Lynnie. The hospital in Maryland is prepared for you, and I’ll be along as soon as I can.”

Even pale and gasping for breath, Lynne Harmony rolled bloodshot eyes. She lay in the hospital bed, not moving, the pallor of her skin lighter than the white blanket covering her rapidly diminishing form. She now needed oxygen to breathe, and the strong antibiotics being pumped into her veins were doing more damage than good. “They’re gonna move me in a minute, and I need a favor from you first.”

“Anything.” Nora slid closer to the plastic. “You’re my best friend.” And you’re dying. Bret had fought tears when he’d left earlier. “I’ll do anything for you.”

Lynne’s lips trembled in a parody of a smile. “Call it a deathbed wish, if you like.”

“You’re not going to die,” Nora snapped out. “Fight this, damn it.”

Lynne’s eyelids fluttered. “I will. Promise. For now, you said anything.”

Nora nodded. “Yes.”

With an obvious struggle, Lynne forced her eyelids open, and her green eyes focused. “I always thought we’d be at each other’s weddings. You know, ugly bridesmaid dresses and all.”

Nora frowned, her instincts humming. “Me too.”

“Well, this is fucking ugly.” Lynne glanced down at the hospital gown. “Fugly, if you will.”

Nora tilted her head. “Lynnie—”

“No.” Color suffused Lynne’s face. “No silliness, no protest, no self-protection. I want this, and you promised.” Her voice slurred on the end.

Nora shook her head. “Want what?”

“You. Safe and protected.” Lynne gasped for air. “It’s all I want.”

Oh, man. The fever was taking her brilliant friend away. Nora nodded. “I’m safe, Lynne. I can protect myself.”

Lynne snorted, the sound tinny over the line. “Bullshit. With what’s coming, with disaster, you can’t protect yourself. He’s stronger than you. Meaner. A survivor.” Her eyelids fluttered. The monitors beeped.

“Lynne!” Nora clapped her hands.

“What?” Lynne groused, opening her eyes again. “Oh yeah. Marry him so I can die in peace. I need to know you’re protected.”

Nora’s head jerked back. Her stomach dropped. “Marry him?” Where had her friend’s head gone? She was perfectly capable of protecting herself. Wasn’t she?

“Yes.” Lynne sighed.

The door opened, and Deke stalked in, his gun at his hip and a frown on his face. Behind him loped a gray-haired pastor in full robes.

Her heart jumped hard, and her abdomen warmed. Harsh lines cut into the sides of his mouth, and his green eyes held anger. But damn, it was good to see him. Then Lynne’s words hit her. “Oh, hell no,” Nora swore.

Amusement lightened Deke’s green eyes to the color of a spring river. She gaped, not having seen the expression on him for nearly a month.

He nodded at Lynne. “I take it you made your deathbed request?”

Nora turned and punched him in the arm. Hard. “She’s not on her deathbed.”

Deke shot her a warning glance and rubbed his bicep, leaning over to speak in the mic. “I’m not sure about marrying this wild woman, Lynne. She just hit me.”

Lynne coughed out air, and a tremor shook her body. The blue heart shone bright from beneath the covers. “You promised, McDougall.”

“Aye, I did.” He turned and looked down at Nora before grabbing her hands in his big ones. “Start the vows, Pastor.”

Nora shook her head and tried to jerk free. Without success. “You set this up,” she accused Deke.

“No,” Lynne said weakly. “I talked to him this morning. Asked him. Please, Nora. I want to hear the words before I go.”

Nora gaped, looking from Lynne to Deke. This couldn’t be happening; the fever was seriously screwing with Lynne’s brain. “This is crazy, Deacan,” Nora whispered.

He lifted a massive shoulder. “I always figured on marrying you again, and why not make your friend happy? Give her some peace.”

“Please,” Lynne groaned.

On all that was holy. Fine. Bloody Deacan McDougall had no problem taking advantage of the situation, now did he? Nora could grant a deathbed wish, if the vows would give Lynne peace. Then she’d march her ass down to the courthouse and annul the damn thing. Nobody was going to force her into marriage. She showed her teeth to Deke, and his chin lifted.

Nora pushed out air. “If I marry him, you have to promise to live, Lynne. Promise me.”

Lynne nodded. “It’s a deal.”

Nora glanced back at Deke. “Fine.”

The pastor was fast and kept the vows simple. Within five minutes, Nora found herself married to Deacan once again. When he slipped on her wedding band, the same one from before, she gasped.

“You threw it at my head when you left,” he said calmly.

“You kept it?” she whispered.

He looked down through heavy-lidded eyes. “Aye. Figured I’d put it back in place at some point.”

Lynne smiled at the end, her eyelids closing. “You all come visit me in Maryland for your honeymoon,” she whispered before falling asleep.

“You can kiss your bride,” the pastor said.

Nora stilled and opened her mouth. Deke leaned down and grasped her shoulder, pulling her into him. His mouth covered hers, so much power in the move that she rose to her tiptoes out of instinct. He kissed her hard enough her head fell back, and she had to grab his rigid biceps to keep her balance. His tongue swept inside her mouth with masculine insistence, staking his claim, and desire spiraled through her flesh to her blood. Maybe deeper.

Finally, he released her.

She blinked, her body rioting. With a gasp, she released his arms.

He took her hand and led her from the room and down the corridor. She tripped beside him, trying to control herself. Finally, he paused.

She freed her hand from his. “I can’t believe you went along with that,” she hissed.

He rubbed her arm, his expression unreadable. “Your friend is worried about the future and wants you safe. I want you to be mine again. The timing worked.”

Nora drew away, facing him fully, needing to lift her head to keep his gaze. Man, he was tall—and big. Sometimes she forgot about his sheer size. “I’m not staying married to you.”

His eyes darkened, and his face hardened in a way she hadn’t seen before. “Aye, you are.” He leaned in, bringing the scent of male with him. “You run this time, Nora, and I swear to all the Scottish gods watching over me, I’ll come after you.”

Chapter Thirteen

That evening, after a frustrating day in the lab, Nora waited in what was now her office, trying not to cry. The CDC had taken Lynne away, and her chances weren’t good. But she’d sure made things interesting before leaving, now hadn’t she? Leave it to Lynne, the world’s most dignified romantic, to arrange Nora’s love life before leaving.

Married. Lingering rays of moonlight slanted through the partially drawn shades, catching Nora’s simple platinum band. She was once again married to Deacan McDougall. Before, she’d been able to somewhat handle the boy. Now he was all man. Could anybody handle him? Even though it had only been four hours, she felt different.

The way he’d looked at her, the way he’d touched her after the ceremony . . . had been different.

Purposeful. Protective. Possessive.

The part of him he’d always contained seemed present now. Out free and wild.

Judging from the kiss he’d given her, he didn’t have any intention of subduing himself. The guy she’d glimpsed during her first week in D.C., the cheerful strategist whose biggest concern was creating battle plans for faraway places, was gone. Instinct told her the existence of that Deke had been fleeting, anyway. A man’s true nature couldn’t be contained, and she knew now, more than ever, that Deacan would never be restrained.

Even if the CDC contained the spreading infection, even if life continued on as it was, Deacan wouldn’t remain a mere advisor.

That much she knew.

What he’d do, she wasn’t sure. But he was a fighter, a warrior, and those characteristics lived in his very blood. She’d known it years ago, and she’d run.

Was she strong enough to stay this time?

A shadow crossed her vision, and Deacan filled the doorway. Solid, strong, and steady. “The FBI has a new lead on Zach Barter in Texas.”

She swallowed. “I see.”

He reached out a hand. “Let’s go home. We need to talk.”

They needed to talk? Seriously? Steam nearly boiled from her ears, and she shot to her feet. “That’s the understatement of the year.”

“I know.” He waited, ever patient, until she’d crossed the room to take his hand. “While I’ve been finishing up with the FBI, have you been in here plotting my death, planning your escape, or accepting your current situation?”

“If I were plotting your death, McDougall, you’d be dead.” Head held high, she began to sweep past him.

And forgot he had her hand.

She jerked to a stop and let out a low snarl.

He fell into step beside her. “I say this time around, any time we wanna fight, we do it naked.”

She snorted. Though she’d never admit it out loud, if they fought naked, she’d lose. “Sounds like a good way for you to be seriously damaged, McDougall.”

He paused. “Good point.”

She laughed, catching herself off guard with the sound. When was the last time she’d laughed? She pondered the question as they climbed into his truck and drove the block to the apartment building. In the parking lot, she paused to look at him. “We both know you’re done creating strategy. What’s next for you?”

He blinked and stepped out of the truck, crossing to open her door. With a gentleness only a big man could show, he helped her from the vehicle. “You and I will make a decision as to our future. Afterward.” His hand at the small of her back felt both familiar and new as he propelled her toward the door. At the entrance, he swept her up.

She yelped and grabbed his chest. “What are you doing?”

He grinned and carried her through the entryway and up the flights of stairs to his apartment door. “Figured we’d do it right.”

Her heart hummed in her chest as he crossed his threshold and finally set her down inside. “You said we’d discuss your career afterward? After what?”

He kicked shut the door. “After we consummate the marriage. We wouldn’t want an easy out, now would we?”

The breath caught in her throat, and she took a step back. “Ah—”

“Ah, what?” he asked, crossing his arms.

She blinked, desire weakening her knees. He wanted to consummate. Her nipples hardened instantly. Man. She had it bad. “We should talk now.”

He stared down at her, not blinking, obviously contemplating. Heartbeats later, only a twitch of his jaw showed he’d reached a decision. “Nope.” Faster than a man his size should be able to move, he ducked, and she found herself over his shoulder. Air blew through her hair when he stood, and the blood rushed to her head.

She smacked him as hard as she could on the ass.

His smack beat hers, hands down. Pain rippled through her butt, followed by instant heat. “Damn it, Deke,” she muttered. She caught a glimpse of the sofa, a doorway, and then a bed before he flipped her back over in the bathroom. He used one hand to steady her shoulder and the other to reach in and turn the shower knob.

She tried to clear her mind. “You want to consummate in the shower?”

“Aye.” He tugged her shirt over her head along with her bra. “We’ve been at the CDC all day, and I want warmth and woman. I can get both in the shower.” He unbuckled her jeans and shoved her clothes down her legs.

Her mind spinning, she kicked out of the jeans and her sneakers, leaving her completely nude. She swallowed.

He lifted an eyebrow in a silent command.

Oh. Well, okay then. Her hands trembled as she unhooked his belt and jeans to push them down his legs, revealing a fully erect cock. Her body sizzled with hunger at the sight. He helped her by toeing off his boots and kicking everything across the room. “Shirt,” he said.

She thought about defying him, but then she’d be without the sight of his impressive chest. He had to duck to help her, but soon he stood nude.

A soft sigh breathed out of her. He was strong and scarred, with hard ridges of muscle down his arms and across his chest. She flattened her hand over his heart. “You’re beautiful,” she whispered.

He grasped her and kissed her in a combined move of strength and gentleness. Lifting her, he walked into the shower, setting her shoulders against the dark tile, protecting her from the spray with his body. Holding her aloft, he leaned back. “I wanna be married to you again, Nora. Truth be told, I’ve never felt without you.”

Such sweetness from such a dangerous man ambushed her every time. She ran her hands through his wet hair. Life had changed, and things were going to get worse. One or both of them could be gone in a week if the bacteria continued to spread. She couldn’t hold back any longer. “I’ve missed you.”

His eyes darkened, and he pressed between her legs, slowly pushing all the way inside. The second he filled her, it felt like coming home. Finally. She swallowed and leaned forward to drop a kiss above his heart, her entire body vibrating.

His chest hitched, and his fingers tangled through her hair, drawing her head to the side. “You’re willing to give us another chance? A real one?” he asked.

She looked into his eyes, absorbing the different colors of green, noting the question in them. Had she ever felt separated from him? Really? Probably not, and life was too short to miss out on Deacan. He was difficult and deadly, but he was hers. “Yes,” she breathed.

At her acquiescence, a lump of pain he’d become accustomed to having in his gut disappeared. Gone for good.

Her pretty brown eyes sparkled, and a light flush covered her high cheekbones.

Deke gripped her harder, sheathed to the root, feeling as close to heaven as he’d ever get. “I won’t let you down,” he said softly, leaning over to brush his mouth across hers. Soft as petals, her lips opened under his, taking him. This petite woman had owned his heart since he was sixteen years old and a newcomer to her country, and she’d never given it back.

He pulled out and gently worked his way back inside her. Where he belonged.

She gasped, and her thighs trembled around his hips. He grinned and leaned down to suck one pink nipple into his mouth. Her curves had filled out in the years they’d been apart, but during the last few weeks, she’d lost weight from stress. As her husband, he’d do a much better job of taking care of her this time.

Steam rose around them in a cocoon of intimacy.

He licked down her shoulder and over her breasts again. The second he scraped a nipple, she rippled around his dick. His groan mingled with hers. She clasped him tighter with her legs, and he slid out and then back in. Harder this time.

Sharp nails scraped his chest, and sparks lit his balls.

There were so many things he needed to say to her, so many decisions to be made. But at the heart of it all was right now. He wanted the night, and he needed to make her his. For good this time, no matter what the future held. They’d been married, and while he’d aroused her by promising a consummation, the primal male deep inside him wanted that union. Proof that they were man and wife.

Her eyelids fluttered closed, and her head rested back on the tile. “Deacan,” she moaned.

The sound torpedoed right to his heart, blowing it wide open. For her. He thrust harder, holding her up, tilting her pelvis to take more of him. He’d tried. God, he’d tried to be somebody else. To have a quiet life and be a quiet man.

That was over, and he figured they both knew it. Even so, the words would come later.

Now he fully intended to claim her and go deep enough she’d never be free of him.

Electricity burned down his spine. He released her hair to flatten a hand against the tile by her head, hammering inside her, his mind blanking. Only here and now mattered. Only this woman forever.

Little ripples cascaded inside her, milking him. He pounded faster, and her body arched against his. She opened her mouth and cried out his name, vibrations moving through her to grab his cock and hold on tight.

He shoved hard, holding her to him, and exploded.

Chapter Fourteen

Morning light filled the office at the CDC, and Nora readjusted her weight on the chair and bit back a wince. The previous night had been wild, and they’d certainly consummated their marriage.

Three times. Enough that the soreness extended to places inside her she hadn’t realized could become sore.

Yet they hadn’t talked. The night had overcome them, and they’d run with it, finally succumbing to sleep. Deke had been called to the office early in the morning to update the White House, and he’d dropped her off at the CDC labs, which were nearly in lockdown.

Experts milled around the building, ranging from CDC health workers to FBI agents to MPD. The CDC was about to hold a press conference and announce the truth, finally.

At the moment, as they tried to contain the infection, the world seemed to be holding its breath.

Whether it knew it or not.

She glanced at the newest printout on her desk. Several of Zach’s local victims, including the first one, Mandy, had died from Scorpius. Her shoulders slumped.

Nora’s phone buzzed, and she picked it up. “Yes?”

“Nora? It’s Bobbi.”

Nora sighed. She’d taken over for Lynne as the head of infectious diseases and had left Bobbi in the lab cataloging results. “Hi, Bobbi. Have you finished with the new samples?” The test results from the previous week were dismal, so she’d kept systematically trying different methods and different materials for the nanoparticles. They’d also tried using several different catalysts to get antibiotics through Scorpius’s protein shell, and the results should be ready soon.

“Um, yeah, but well, we have a problem.”

Nora lifted her head. “Define problem.”

“Two vials of altered Scorpius, the new green strain, are gone. No record, no transfer . . . nothing.”

Nora’s breath caught. “I’ll be right there.” She hung up.

Deke poked his head in, his gaze roaming her head to toe as if taking inventory. A feminine part of her bristled, and she lifted her chin. He grinned with no small amount of masculine smugness. “You’re looking a bit worse for wear, darlin’.”

The endearment, normally used with a nice Southern drawl, came out as dorilin in his deep brogue. She lowered her chin as her mind spun. As she tried to deny reality. “No more so than you.”

“True.” Someone called his name from down the hall, and he turned and gave a jerk of his head before focusing back on her. “Just got word the FBI is tracking Zach Barter back this way. There are guards posted by the labs and at the end of this hallway. You don’t move without me by your side. Got it?”

Fear sizzled along her skin, yet she kept her composure and lifted an eyebrow. “Did you take Scorpius samples from the lab?”

He stilled. Then his head lifted, and his green gaze lasered right in on her. The atmosphere in the small room was charged. “No.”

She stood and planted both hands on the desk. “Do you know who did?”

“Aye.” His eyelids dropped to half-mast in a curiously dangerous look.

“Damn it all to hell, Deacan,” she exploded. “Scorpius is not a weapon.”

He drew in air through his nose. “It could be if used against us.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose between two fingers and fought the urge to punch him in the face. “I won’t be part of creating a weapon we might use against other human beings. No matter what happens.”

“We need a secondary location to keep Scorpius, just in case something happens to this one,” Deke said levelly. “Nobody is asking you to be part of weaponizing anything. Your job is to find a cure, so I suggest you do it.”

Her chin lifted. “What’s your job?”

“To protect and defend by any means necessary.” He lifted a shoulder. “It’s who I am, and I’m not garna change. What we have, you and me, it’s good. Maybe we don’t agree on much, but we agree on each other. We shouldn’t have given up so easily last time.” He glanced down at his vibrating phone. “I have to go. We’ll discuss us later. Don’t leave the building, wife.” Without another word, he turned and disappeared down the corridor.

Her temper exploded inside her head with enough force to rattle her teeth. How could he?

The phone on her desk buzzed, and she snatched it up. “What?”

A pause came across the line for a moment. “Um, Dr. Medina?”

Nora took a deep breath and tried to keep from throwing something. She and Deke were going head to head at the nearest opportunity. “I’m sorry, Bobbi. What’s going on?”

“Well, I, I’m not sure what to do. I tried to call Lynne because I heard she still wanted to be informed of major developments, but she’s out of range, and maybe not even conscious, and I, just—”

“It’s okay.” Nora lowered her voice to soothing. “I’m covering for Lynne, and I can help. What’s going on?”

“I found the missing samples,” Bobbi whispered, her voice muffled.

Nora’s head jerked up. “Where?”

“By Loading Dock C. After I saw they were gone, I figured I should do something since Lynne wasn’t here, so I went to talk to Geo Flanks in the security room? The cute one with the beard?”

“Bobbi—to the point, please.” Nora skirted the desk and headed into the hallway. Where was Loading Dock C? Somewhere south, right?

“Well, he let me watch the security cameras and recordings, and I saw the vials being removed. The cooler containing them is in C right now. Just waiting.” Bobbie cleared her throat. “What should I do?”

Nora sped up, smiling at people she passed. “Nothing. Do nothing right now—I’m on my way.” She sucked in air. “Who took the vials?” Please, don’t let it be Deke.

Bobbi sniffed. “Don’t get mad, but it was the sexy-as-hell Scot. Your man.”

Nora doubled over as if punched in the gut. If he thought she wasn’t smart enough to stop him, to stop the government, he didn’t know her at all. “Hold tight. I’ll be right there.” She tried to remember the map she’d been given earlier so she could maneuver around the CDC and find the vending machines. They probably hadn’t figured she’d use it in order to avoid the guards.

While her memory wasn’t as good as Zach’s, it was darn close. Nora avoided the guard points, took several more hallways, found the stairs, went down, took several more hallways, and finally ended up at Loading Dock C. Quiet and boring. She shoved open the double doors to a quiet warehouse-like room.

Dust filled her nose and trickled like a warning across her skin.

Bobbi slowly came out from behind a box of masks. Her blue eyes sparkled and her color was heightened. “Dr. Medina. Or is it Dr. McDougall now?”

Nora swallowed and glanced around the deserted area. A chill swept through her. Something was definitely wrong. She casually reached for her phone. “McDougall.” Awareness spiraled through her stomach, and she edged away from the girl. “What’s going on?”

The assistant smoothed down a yellow T-shirt. “I needed to see you.”

Nora peered closer. Something was definitely off. Had Bobbi been infected? “How are you feeling?”

“Better.” Bobbi rubbed her pointed chin. “The Scorpius bacteria is a bitch to get over. I was so sick.”

Heated air burst from Nora’s lungs. “You were infected?”

“Yes. Zach came over the night before he left town, and we, ah—” She blushed and swayed.

Oh shit. “Did he rape you?”

“No. Well, not really. I mean, I fought him, but after the fever, I see that it was love.” Bobbi tilted her head to the side. “I was sick for twenty-four hours—thought I was going to die.” She frowned. “I kept in touch with Lynne, saying I was searching for Zach, but I didn’t die, and now Zach and I can be together. I mean, once you’re out of the picture.” She drew a pointy gun from the back of her waist. “There are a couple of ways this can happen. I can shoot you, but Zach would be pissed. Or I could bite you, but Zach . . . would be pissed.” She sighed. “He wants to bite you himself.”

Nora glanced around for some sort of weapon. Going hand-to-hand with the girl was a bad idea, since the bacteria still lived in the saliva of a host, even one that had recovered from the infection. “Why does he want to infect me?”

Bobbi wrinkled a very pert nose. “He thinks those who survive the infection become immortal.”

“And you don’t?” Nora asked, peering closely.

“Nah. I feel stronger and maybe smarter, but I don’t feel like a god.” Bobbi jerked the gun toward the outside door. “There’s a nice, quiet parking lot out there that nobody uses.”

Nora eyed the weapon. If she rushed the girl, she’d get shot. “Why are you doing this?”

“I love him.” Bobbi’s aim wavered. “When you love somebody, you’ll do anything to make them happy. Right?”

“No.” Nora shook her head. There was an odd glint in Bobbi’s eyes. Fever? Or possibly insanity. “So there weren’t vials stolen?”

“Oh, we’re missing two vials, that’s for sure, but I have no idea who took them and don’t really care.” Bobbi shrugged and pointed the gun at Nora’s chest. “I’d love to just shoot you.”

Nora blinked and tried to remember the layout of the building. The exit let out at the side parking lot; there was a chance somebody would be out there. Not a great chance, considering the main parking area was on the other side of the building. If she let Bobbi take her outside, she’d be at a disadvantage. So she set her feet. “I don’t think so. And if you try to bite me, I’ll knock your ass out.”

The girl’s head jerked back. “Well, Zach figured you’d say that.” She fired, and three red darts plugged Nora in the neck.

So, not bullets. Interesting. Nora’s eyes fluttered shut, gravity took over, and the last thing she felt was the hard cement floor.

Deke finished meeting with the FBI profilers, and his temples pounded at the newest update. Zach Barter was probably back in town. Fair enough.

“We’ll get him,” FBI Director Siles said around a worn toothpick as they maneuvered down the hallway. “We knew he’d come back.”

Deke nodded and headed toward Lynne’s office. Well, Nora’s office now. She was probably still pissed at him, but they both had their ways of dealing with life, and they’d have to agree to disagree. He wasn’t losing her again, damn it. “Aye.” They’d known Zach would return for Nora, but Deke had thought he’d have a little more time to prepare. “Warn your men about Zach. There’s no cure for the bite, and you can only hope to beat the fever.”

So far, based on the newest data from Zach’s reign of terror, most people lost the fight. The CDC had released information to the drug companies, and they were rushing to find a cure. Or vaccine. Or hopefully both. But with the foremost experts in the country still unsuccessful, their chances looked bleak.

Deke reached the office. Empty. He turned toward Siles. “Have you seen Nora?”

“Nope.” Siles’s phone rang, and he glanced at the face. “It’s the vice president. No, I mean the newly appointed president. I bet your girl is either meeting with agents or is in the break room. Call me if you can’t find her.” He turned for the nearest exit.

Deke nodded, glancing down the bustling hallway. A month ago, he’d enjoyed the peacefulness of his job and slow days. Now he could barely find a spot to think. Where the hell had Nora gone? The back of his neck tickled, and he shoved down impatience. She was fine. Zach Barter couldn’t have gotten into the building, considering his face was plastered everywhere, and Nora wouldn’t have gone outside without protection, even if she was pissed about the missing vials.

Where the hell was she?

He scouted the building, going office to office, asking everybody if they’d seen her. All he got were shrugs and head shakes.

He sucked in a deep breath, everything inside him calming. Okay. She wouldn’t have gone anywhere. So he needed to relax and just find her. Yet he couldn’t help but hurry as he headed for the control room.

The men let him in and didn’t question him as he ran through recordings of the last two hours. Damn it. He watched the meeting between Nora and Bobbi, and his gut clenched when Bobbi fired. Nora hit the ground, and then the aide had carried Nora outside with surprising ease. The camera outside captured them getting into a white SUV with a man driving. Probably Zach.

Bile rose from Deke’s gut. If Zach had Nora, and if he’d bitten her, Deke was too late.

Chapter Fifteen

Nora’s head rolled on her shoulders, and she caught herself in a snort. Her eyes opened.

Candlelight. Tons and tons of candles surrounded her.

She blinked and shook her head, trying to focus. Pain lanced along her wrists, and she glanced down. Rough rope bound her wrists to an old-fashioned wooden chair. A gasp escaped her at seeing the pale-pink, see-through teddy barely covering her. “What the hell?” she asked. The room was sparse with only a twin bed in the corner and her chair.

The door opened.

Her heart slammed into her gut. “Zach.”

He smiled, the expression full of charm. “Nora. I’ve missed you.” An odd glint filled his movie-star blue eyes, and somehow, his voice had deepened. “Did you miss me?”

Hell no. Her mouth tasted like sand. “Where am I?”

“Bobbi’s aunt’s house. She’s quite the helpful girl,” Zach said.

Bile tickled the base of Nora’s throat. “Where’s the aunt?”

“On a cruise.”

“Why am I tied up?” She tried to keep her voice level.

He shrugged and shut the door behind him. “You’ve been playing hard to get, so I figured I’d just go ahead and catch you.” His chuckle filled the room with a slightly manic sound. “Some women like these kind of games.”

The blood rushed through her head. “Did you infect me?”

His eyebrows rose. “Not yet. I figured we’d do that the old-fashioned way.” His perfectly coiffed blond head jerked to the bed.

“Why do you want to kill me?” she whispered.

He frowned. “You won’t die. Sure, it’s a rough few days, but you’ll live through the fever. Then we’ll be together forever.”

She jerked against the restraints. “Most people catching the infection are dying, Zach. If you care about me at all, you won’t want to kill me.”

He licked his lips, his gaze dropping to her breasts. “You’ll live.”

A shudder wound through her. “Where’s Bobbi?”

Zach shrugged. “She served her purpose.”

Oh no. He hadn’t killed the young scientist, had he? “You’ve gone mad.”

He smiled again. “They do say that most genius is akin to madness, right? Trust me. You want this feeling.” His tennis shoes made little sound as he crossed the room to kneel in front of her, his hands clasping her thighs. Calluses marred his palms and scratched her skin as he caressed up her legs.

Nausea kicked into her gut. She tried to push back, to kick him, but his hold was absolute.

He frowned. “Stop fighting me, or I’ll bite you right now.”

Her legs trembled. Fear bit like fire through her. What should she do? If she fought him, he would infect her. His fingers reached the edge of the pink panties. “Please, stop,” she whispered.

He groaned and reached up to tug down the bodice. Cool air brushed across her nipples. Terror ricocheted through her arms, and she pulled harder against the ropes, shredding her skin.

“I’ve waited so long to taste you,” he murmured.

She shook her head, trying to get away. “If that’s so, why did you leave?” If she could get him to talk, maybe she could buy herself some time. Deke had to be looking for her by now.

Zach blew warm breath over her skin. “I had a job to do. Infecting all of those people took time, and it also kept the authorities busy.”

“Zach, look at me.” She had to get his focus off biting her, damn it. Her voice trembled as she asked, “Why did you infect all those people? I mean, why would you do that?”

He blinked, clearly perplexed. “To thin the herd. You really don’t get it, do you?”

“No,” she whispered.

He sat back. “This is new. I’m something new—in the chain of evolution.” He glanced down at his arm. “Since I survived the infection, I’m stronger. Smarter even. It’s time for the next species on earth—it’s time for me. People who survive the illness are different. Surely you know that.”

The tests were still coming in, but was it possible? Could it be that the infection actually allowed its host to use more of the brain than humans normally were able to access? “Then we should get you into a facility for testing, don’t you think?” she asked, hoping to reach the scientist he used to be.

His gaze sharpened. “No. Why would I let lemmings study me? If the scientists survive, once we’ve gotten rid of lower beings, then I can be studied. No problem.”

A tear rolled down her cheek while her brain fought to get through to him. “I’d like to study you. Please let me.”

His lips spread in a pleased grin. “As soon as you prove you’re worthy, we’ll find a place to study each other. Now I’ve waited long enough to taste you. Stop trying to distract me.” His gaze intent, he leaned toward her breasts.

“No!” She shoved back against the chair. His saliva was infected, but so long as she didn’t have any cuts, she’d probably be all right. She kicked out again and nailed him in the ankle.

He growled and slapped her across the face. Hard. Agony bloomed along her cheekbone.

Her vision blurred, and her ears rang.

“Bitch. Now I bite.” He bared his teeth and grabbed her neck, moving toward her breast.

She screamed.

The door burst open, and Deke barreled inside. He took one second to assess the situation and ran full bore for Zach, manacling him around the waist and lifting. Zach flew through the air to strike the wall and fall down. Hard.

Deke turned toward Nora just as Zach stood up and rushed him.

“Deacan!” she yelled.

Deke pivoted and kicked Zach in the chest, sending him sprawling again. Circling around, Deke kept his body between Nora and the threat. The image of her, pale and terrorized, half-naked in the chair, would haunt him forever.

Zach shoved to his feet and smiled, blood covering his teeth.

“Don’t let him bite you,” Nora said, her bare feet slapping uselessly against the floor.

Sirens trilled outside, while blue and red lights swirled through the partially closed blinds. “My backup is here,” Deke said calmly. “Get onto your knees, and I won’t have to shoot you.” He drew his gun and pointed.

Zach smiled. “You won’t shoot me. They need me alive.”

“No. They want you alive. I’m okay with you dead.” Deke kept his gun pointed levelly. If he shot, blood would spray. While he could probably block Nora’s body with his own, he couldn’t be absolutely sure no blood would get on her.

Zach spat blood toward him.

Nora cried out.

He turned his head to avoid the liquid touching his face.

The door opened, and the blonde ran inside, knife in her hand, heading for Nora.

Time slowed. Deke’s focus narrowed. Drawing on training, drawing on history, he launched himself into action. Spinning, he kicked Bobbi full in the jaw, throwing her back into the door. Her head hit with a sickening thud, and she dropped hard, eyes closed. Without missing a beat, he turned just as Zach leaped for him.

Deke clasped the man in a bear hug, pivoted, and slammed him face-first onto the floor. Blood arced over Deke’s hands and flew in every direction, along the floor, spattering Nora’s feet. Zach slumped into limp unconsciousness.

His hands slipped, but Deke clicked handcuffs into place. He jumped to his feet. “Any cuts on your feet?”

She shook her head, tears washing down her face. “Have to get clean. Have to get you clean. Cuts on your hands?”

He glanced down at his shaking hands, covered with blood. “I don’t think so.”

FBI agents burst inside, guns out.

“Cut her free,” Deke said, yanking off his shirt and kicking out of his clothes. He waited until the nearest agent had cut Nora free. “Get into the shower. Now.”

She nodded, gulping air. With barely a glance at the agents, she shimmied out of the teddy and ran, buck-assed naked, for the hallway. Deke followed her, waiting until she’d stepped inside the shower. “Use soap. Wash it all off.”

He kept his hands away from his body and dropped to one knee, peering at her feet. She scrubbed them with soap until they were pink. He breathed out. No cuts, not even a scrape. Good.

She stepped out. “Your turn.”

He nodded and shoved by her, careful not to touch. Minutes later, he’d washed off the blood and reassured himself he didn’t have any cuts or wounds.

The first agent poked his head into the bathroom. “You’re both to stay here until the CDC guys come for you. They’re bringing decontamination chemicals.”

Deke nodded and flipped off the water, not wanting to touch anything else in the room.

Nora shivered next to the shower but didn’t reach for a towel. “Anything in here could be contaminated.”

“I know.” He wanted nothing more than to reach for her, but just in case he was contaminated, he kept his distance. “Are you all right?”

“Yes. He didn’t bite me.” Her lips began to turn blue. “How did you find me?”

His chest hitched. “Saw Bobbi take you on video, tracked her through town, did a search for anybody she might know. The aunt and her address popped up. The SUV is in the driveway.” He shook his head. “I thought I’d be too late.”

Her hand trembled as if she wanted to reach out and touch him. Reassure him. But they had to follow protocols. Instead, she gave him a smile. “We’ll be okay, Deke. I promise.”

“I can’t live without you.” Standing, dripping cool water, having just faced death, he gave her the truth. “I’ve loved you since I was sixteen years old, and I don’t want this life, any life, without you.”

Color bloomed in her face. “You pick the darnedest times.”

He chuckled. “I know.”

She smoothed water from her hands. “You live by different rules, but you’re true to them, and you’ll be true to me.” Her smile brightened the entire room. “You’d go through hell for me. How could I not want you?” She faced him fully, shivering but with determination in her eyes. “I love you, too.” As she gave him the words, as she gave him herself, she met his gaze. “It’s always been you, Deacan.”

Yeah. He smiled. “I’ll make you happy, baby. I promise.” More importantly, he’d keep her safe, because the woman had pegged him right. Hell was definitely coming, and he fully intended to storm the flames for her.

Chapter Sixteen

Week 4

29,071 people dead
Likelihood of Scorpius Containment: Impossible

The Romans fell, their last moment a quiet movement of time. The Athenians fell, their blood soaking the earth. The grand Highlanders fell, their mighty swords still clanging in history. Now it’s our time to fall. The difference is, in this time and with you . . . we will rise again.

—DEACAN DEVLIN MCDOUGALL

Nora stretched her neck as she shoved open the door to Deke’s apartment. The statistics of the infected, crazy, and dead were going to give her nightmares. The public finally knew the truth, and society was holding its breath.

The aromatic scent of spaghetti rumbled through her to warm her belly. How could she be hungry? But she was. Yep. That was Deke. It was toast, steak, or spaghetti if he was cooking.

She closed the door, kicked off her boots, and wandered to the kitchen, where he stirred the pot.

He turned, his gaze serious.

Her system instantly went into overdrive. “What?”

He handed her a glass of wine, took another, and grasped her hand to lead her to the living room. His hold was firm and warm. “The noodles need another three minutes, and you and I need to talk.”

She slipped onto the sofa and took a sip of the Cabernet. Warm and robust, it exploded on her tongue. Protecting herself, she tucked her feet under her. “All right.”

He set down his glass. “Our tests came back, the third round, and neither of us was infected by Zach.”

“I know.” The CDC had called her, too. “I actually spoke with Lynne earlier.”

Deke’s eyebrows rose. “How is she?”

“Not great, but hanging on.” If anybody could survive the beginning of the pandemic, it’d be Lynne. “Said she’s basically a pincushion in the name of research right now.”

Deke nodded. “That makes sense, although I feel for her.” “Me too,” Nora said, plucking at a loose thread on his shirt. “Also said that sleeping with the second in line to the presidency hasn’t given her any more power, darn it. They won’t let her leave.”

Deke rubbed his eyes. “They’re an odd couple, don’t you think?”

Nora squinted and took a moment to digest the news. “No. They’re both strong, stubborn, and smart. Probably a good match, really.” She sighed. “Any news on Zach or Bobbi?”

“No. They’re still in custody and being studied.” Lines cut into the sides of Deke’s generous mouth. “I’m still wondering if I should’ve put a bullet in each of their heads instead of letting them live.”

“You did the right thing.” She cleared her throat and steeled her shoulders. “I’m no closer to getting inside Scorpius, though.” She focused on him, needing to look at something good. To feel something strong. “So you wanted to talk. Talk.”

He rubbed the scruffy shadow covering his jawline. “The infection is spreading, and we’re going to need national containment measures.” Green and dark, his eyes sizzled with an impenetrable light.

She blinked. “You’ve been asked to be part of the, well, whatever it is.”

He nodded. “Yes. I’m sure they’ll come up with a grand acronym, but basically, it’s a first line of defense against the threat, and right now we’re calling it the Brigade.”

Front line of danger, that was. Her hands shook. “You took the job?”

“Not yet.” His head lifted, his look all male. “I figured I should talk to you first.”

“What if I say no?” she asked quietly.

He didn’t answer.

She lifted an eyebrow.

He cupped her jaw. “We’re in a war, Nora. A new one. Most people who catch the infection die. A few live, and a few are different. Dangerous.”

She swallowed. The truth of his statement carved fear through her, but they’d faced terror before and won. “You’re going to hunt them down.”

“Yes.” He kept hold of her jaw, trapping her gaze. “I tried to be somebody else. To get you back, to make you love me again, I tried. God knows I did.”

“Deacan—”

“No.” He brushed a finger cross her lips. “I’m a fighter, and I’ll always be a fighter if there’s something needing to be fought. This disease? It needs to be fought. The people trying to spread it need to be stopped. I canna sit on the sidelines and watch.”

She’d known. From the first day they’d met, she’d known he was different. Special. Dangerous. A deadly predator now created havoc amongst them, and there wasn’t anybody she’d trust to stop it more than Deacan McDougall. They were going to argue about government and freedom, and she’d stick to her guns. But she would be there for him as he did his job. If he needed her support to do it, then she’d square her shoulders and help him.

If nothing else, she’d learned that life was short, and no way did she want to live it without him. “I love you as is. Always have and always will,” she said softly. She couldn’t ask him to be less than he was. Less than the man she loved.

His head lifted, and his eyes glittered. “I love you, too.” “I know.” She reached up and took his hand. “It’s you and me, Deacan. Together. No matter what happens next.”

He took her mouth, kissing her deep. When he leaned back, the look in his eyes, true and absolute, was for her. Just her. “Aye,” he said.

Read on for an excerpt from the newest Scorpius Syndrome novel by Rebecca Zanetti, coming in February 2017.

Before surviving the Scorpius bacterium, Tace Justice was a good ole Texas cowboy who served his country and loved his mama. After Scorpius, the world became dark, dangerous, and deadly—and so did he. The Vanguard medic is stronger, faster, and smarter than before, but he’s lost the line between right and wrong. His passion is absolute, and when he focuses it on one woman, there’s no turning back for either of them . . .

Sami Steel has been fighting to survive right alongside Tace, convincing the Vanguard soldiers she’s one of them. In truth, Sami is a former hacker turned government agent who worked at The Bunker, where scientists stored both contaminants and cures. Only she knows the location, and she’s not telling. Yet when sexual fire explodes between her and Tace, she’ll face even that hell again to save him.

“Sexy, tough, and deftly sprinkled with dark humor.”
—New York Times bestselling author Larissa Ione

Click here to get your copy.

The Darkness doesn’t just stare back…it moves forward, opens its mouth, and swallows you whole.
—Tace Justice

Tace Justice read the last depressing line on the page and growled, tossing the journal across the room. It landed and the cover slapped back into place with Hello Kitty smiling at him. Jesus. Paper was scarce, but the Doc could’ve found a different notebook when she’d ordered him to start journaling. Like his descent into madness really needed to be recorded by a happy cat.

He glanced around his dismal apartment in Vanguard headquarters. Worn beige bedspread, tan couch, ripped brown linoleum that smelled like, well, nothing. Hell, it probably smelled badly, but he’d lost his sense of smell. If he wasn’t crazy already, the entire room would just depress the shit out of him. The walls had been painted white decades ago and even now stood bare and dingy. Should he get some art to brighten the place up?

Why bother? He stood and stretched, wincing as new bruises ached to life.

They’d returned mere hours before from a full out battle up north where they’d rescued two of their own. His adrenaline had ebbed, yet his mind still spun. No way could he sleep.

A tremor started in his right foot, and he paused, taking note. It vibrated up past his knee, and he had to balance on his other leg as weakness assailed his entire limb.

Not another tremor.

He sighed and waited, breathing in and out evenly until his strength returned. Damn it. What was wrong with him? He lacked the emotion to be truly concerned, but this was certainly annoying.

His bed was empty of company, and he needed to burn off some energy. At the midnight hour, the gym downstairs would be free, so he deserted the crappy apartment, leaving the door unlocked. If anybody wanted to steal his ugly bedspread, they could take it with his blessing.

He turned down the quiet hallway where the elite Vanguard soldiers slept. All was quiet. Apparently anybody getting some had already done so and folks were now recuperating from the fight earlier.

Reaching the landing, he hustled down a flight of stairs to the vestibule of the brick building, tuning in to the soup kitchen to the right. No breathing. The place was deserted. Pivoting sharply, he took two stairs at a time in reaching the basement, which housed their makeshift gym.

“What are you doing up?” A female voice caught him unaware.

He stopped cold at seeing Sami Steel stretching out on the blue gym mat, her dark hair piled on top of her head, her fit body in tight yoga pants and a tank top. Bruises marred her slim jaw from the fight earlier, and a purpling lump showed on her right wrist. “Couldn’t sleep,” he said, his body awakening completely. Hell, he hadn’t realized his body had been slumbering. “You?” he asked.

She breathed out and moved very nice tits. “Too keyed up from the fight earlier.”

“I’m with you.” After the fight, it had taken hours to return to Vanguard territory, so they should both be fine by now. “We’re strange.”

She grinned, and cute lines crinkled by her soft brown eyes. “Anybody who has survived Scorpius is weird, if you ask me.”

He nodded. The Scorpius bacterium had spread through the human population like a biblical plague, killing more than ninety-nine percent of those infected. Since the bacteria localized in the brain, it altered everyone who’d survived it. Some were faster, some meaner, some crazier, and some evil. He was still figuring out where he was landing on that spectrum, and all indications pointed to sociopathic. “You fought well earlier.”

She lifted a dark eyebrow. “Thanks, although I did notice you covering my back more than was necessary. I can kick your ass, remember?”

True. She’d been kicking his ass for months in training. The woman had been raised by a father who owned a karate studio and an uncle who owned a street fighting organization, so she’d been fighting since birth. Yet lately…Tace had been holding back, not wanting to hurt her. Or to take away the confidence she seemed to need. “You are tough, now aren’t you?”

Something in his tone must’ve alerted her, because her chin lowered. “You wanna go a round?” she murmured.

His cock perked up. Damn it. He should’ve gone looking for the woman he’d been sleeping with, but the gym had interested him as much as her, which was a bad sign. Lately he kept seeing Sami’s face, even with Julie moving naked beneath him, and that could never happen. For as tough as Sami was physically, she had a delicacy of nature he’d destroy. Right now, before he completely succumbed to his darker side, he needed to make sure they stayed colleagues. “Nah,” he said, letting his natural Texas twang free. “I don’t wanna fight.”

“Chicken,” Sami taunted, standing and pulling one arm across her chest.

His mouth went dry, but he couldn’t look away. “I, ah, was trying to write in a journal and got frustrated.” Why was he sharing?

Sami rolled her eyes and worked on the other arm. “The doc told me to start journaling, too. Said it would be good for my brain as well as a proper recording of us rebuilding civilization.”

Tace snorted. “You’ve been keeping a diary?”

“No,” Sami shot back.

Lie. Interesting. While Tace couldn’t smell things any longer, he could sure as shit make out a lie. His chest heated. Oh, he was fine with her calling him a chicken, but lying to him? The darkness inside him rose up to battle with his good intentions. “Why the hell are you so secretive?” he snapped.

Her eyes widened and then narrowed right on him. “I’m not.”

Another fucking lie. The woman had more secrets than a CIA agent he’d met once while working as a medic in the army. “I’m not the only one who can read a lie these days, sweetheart. Many of us survivors have extra abilities, it seems. You might want to watch yourself.”

Her upper lip curled. “The day I need advice from you, Justice, I’ll be sure to ask nicely.”

Oh, he wanted to sink his teeth into that pretty pink lip. He took a step back, shaking his head free of the image. This was Sami, for Pete’s sake. They were both lieutenants to Jax Mercury, the leader of Vanguard, and they needed to keep it professional. Hell, at some point, she might be present when somebody had to put him down if he turned crazier.

“You sure you don’t wanna go a round?” she asked again, her stance wide.

His chin lowered. “I don’t think you want my hands on you right now.”

She blinked. “Oh, you are asking for a beating.”

The challenge, arrogant and annoying, barreled right through him. The beast growing in him won. He moved without thinking, grabbing her and putting her ass against the wall.

She gasped as he held her a foot or so off the ground.

He leaned into her face and smiled. “You should watch your mou—”

She chopped to his neck, and he saw stars. Two seconds later, she’d knocked him on his back, planted her ass on his abdomen, and angled her hands around his throat. “Tap out,” she snarled, straddling him.

A day ago, he would’ve tapped out. But something new and dark rose in him, hard and fast. “No.” Sweeping her arms away from his trachea, he grabbed her hip and shoved, rolling them both over. “I’m done tapping out.”

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Photo credit: Dylan Patrick

About the Author

New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author Rebecca Zanetti has worked as an art curator, Senate aide, lawyer, college professor, and a hearing examiner—only to culminate it all in stories about Alpha males and the women who claim them. She writes contemporary romances, dark paranormal romances, and romantic suspense novels.

Growing up amid the glorious backdrops and winter wonderlands of the Pacific Northwest has given Rebecca fantastic scenery and adventures to weave into her stories. She resides in the wild north with her husband, children, and extended family who inspire her every day—or at the very least give her plenty of characters to write about.

Please visit Rebecca at:
rebeccazanetti.com
Facebook:
facebook.com/RebeccaZanetti.books
Twitter:
@RebeccaZanetti

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