There was silence on the trip back to the Windom facility. The guards waved them through with barely a glance; Treo had radioed ahead to expect the SUV, and the man at the gate recognized the son of the founder quickly. Lexa drove, her thoughts bleak, using the excuse of needing to keep her mind on the road to avoid the thoughts that she really dreaded.
He's not dead. He's not dead.
But Treo had repeated it, with details: Jesse had phased them out through the wall of the Arrigo building. None of them had seen the guards. No one had heard anything until shots rang out. The first took Jesse high in the chest, the second hit Ben in the arm. Treo himself went icy to protect his sister, then Ben recovered enough to strike back. They ran, leaving a dead body behind. There was no choice; the only other alternative was to stay and die.
What am I going to tell Shalimar? How am I going to tell Shalimar?
Amanda too was subdued, clutching onto Brennan like a drowning child, needing the comfort of a strong body. Brennan automatically snugged her closer, allowing her to rest her head against his shoulder. He caressed her soft curls, fingering the one closer to his heart. Lexa threw them a sour look. Jesse not even cold, Shalimar in her sick bed, and all you can do is seduce some jailbait. You're disgusting, Brennan.
By the time they returned to the facility, Ben had recovered enough to wobble unsteadily onto his feet, Brennan and Treo hauling his arms over their shoulders, helping him to enter the main lobby of the facility. Drops of blood landed on the marbled tile, horrifying the evening receptionist, although not a word did she say. Instead, buttons were pushed and help in the form of some of Ben's security troops appeared with a stretcher. It took four of them to maneuver the super-soldier onto the guerney, but it was for the best. "This way," Treo directed, taking charge. "My father will want to see to him immediately. Mandi, get the elevator, would you?"
"On it." Mandi brushed by Brennan, the skin to skin contact warming him and chilling Lexa. What was the little tramp up to? Her clothes were still half off, displaying parts of her that were more decently covered. A reaction from her kidnapping? Some weird psychological response? After all, the kid was an empath. Aren't all empaths crazy? Lexa's head hurt.
"I'll see to Shalimar," she offered. "Brennan? Coming with me?"
"Be up in a few." Brennan's eyes were locked onto Amanda's backside. The denim was ripped in a revealing spot, and Brennan was trying to see what it revealed. The elevator doors closed on the group with Ben. Lexa was left behind and alone, trying to figure out why Brennan had just dumped Shalimar. Before they learned of Jesse's death, out in the forest lobbing electrons and photons at the enemy, Shalimar was all that Brennan could talk about: how worried he was about her and how he wanted to hold her. First thing he had intended to do after the mission was completed was to go to the feral and make certain she was okay.
Now he couldn't spare a moment.
Maybe Brennan thought he couldn't face her? That Shalimar would blame him for letting her 'little brother' get killed? Or maybe that Brennan just couldn't bear to watch the love of his life cry.
Neither concept rang true.
Third option: Brennan was a cad, had been using Shalimar for a little light entertainment, and when some equally as attractive entertainment entered the picture he went where he thought he could get the most tail. That made a little more sense. Grateful girl, doting father. Brennan could make a nice little nest for himself right here in this rich little hideaway. No one would find him here. Nice life. Bastard.
And he was about to let Lexa do all the really rotten stuff. Lexa got to tell Shalimar that Jesse was dead. That the molecular wasn't coming back. And that the man that she had given her heart to, one Brennan Mulwray, as fickle as the lightning that he festered within him, was dancing after their host's daughter.
Life really sucked sometimes.
"Did you see him fall?" Shalimar's voice was far more even than it had any right to be.
But Lexa could hear the tremor begging to be released. "No," she admitted. "I was with Brennan."
"He's not dead."
That's what I want to believe too, sweetheart. But people die in this business. We're mutants. The world really is out to get us.
Shalimar flipped the covers back, slid her bare feet to the cold floor, getting her bearings. "He's not dead," she repeated. "He's not. I would know it if he were. Where's Brennan? We have to go back and get Jesse."
"Brennan's downstairs," Lexa said. "Ben got shot, too." But I'm not going to tell you what lover-boy is doing, and it ain't helping stitch up the super-soldier.
Shalimar seemed to accept that explanation, and Lexa was grateful. But Shalimar continued to get up, grabbing not a comfortable robe but her jeans and a shirt.
Lexa caught the feral by the arm. "Shalimar, you're in no condition to go anywhere, let alone fight. Arrigo's place is as secure as this one."
"And you made a shambles of it."
"Brennan and I stayed outside as a diversion," Lexa corrected. "Jesse got them in and out."
"And now you'll have me." Shalimar couldn't help it; the tears had started, unbidden. She dashed them away angrily. "He's not dead, Lexa! He's not! He's not!"
It felt awkward; it felt right: Lexa hugged Shalimar close. "I miss him too, Shal." And she would swear to the end of time that all the tears belonged to the feral, and none to her. Being part of Mutant X will not turn me soft!
No, he was definitely not comfortable. And either he had massed solid for a lot longer than he was accustomed to or even supposed to be capable of, or Jesse Kilmartin was tied up, for movement was out of the question.
Not a problem. As his wits returned, he realized that he hadn't massed while unconscious and that he was indeed tied securely. Still not a problem. Being tied up, for the molecular, never was. A twist of the neurons and he'd be free whenever he wanted.
But becoming free might not be the best option at present. Jesse pushed on memory cells, trying to figure out how he'd gotten into this mess. Slowly it came back: rescuing Amanda Windom from the despicable Arrigo trying to ravish her, racing through the estate forest and meeting with Amanda's and Treo's father. Then it got a little fuzzy. No, it got foggy, as in fog in his face that choked him, courtesy of Amanda's brother Treo. And then he woke up here.
Okay, memory retrieved. Next question: why? Some of the pieces fell into place, like being carefully maneuvered into a position where none of the rest of Mutant X was around to back him up. Maybe Jesse was just being paranoid but, as Brennan liked to say, the world really is out to get us. And Jesse's current status seemed to back that statement up with cold hard facts.
Speaking of which, he was cold and this floor was hard. Let's open our eyes, shall we, and see where the hell we've landed this time?
Okay, really wish we hadn't done that. The clinic back at Sanctuary had always seemed cold enough but it was home, and it had had Adam and when things weren't going right he could always count on the clinic to have what was needed to make him feel better. Never like going there but really liked the results.
This clinic/lab had all the tortures of the Sanctuary clinic and none of the comforts. It was larger by far, and cooler. Someone had cranked the air-conditioner up high. The bio bed looked pretty similar until he saw the restraints. Sure, the Sanctuary version had had restraints but those were just for emergencies and Adam had gone to a fair amount of trouble to make them look as non-threatening as possible. Restraints just didn't have the same terrifying effect when they were lined with soft blue fuzz. The heavy chain-laced version on this bio-bed looked like emergencies happened a lot and to clinic personnel who just didn't give a damn about their patient. Or maybe they were just re-defining 'emergency'. In any case, Jesse really didn't want to lie on that stretcher in the center of the lab. Nor did getting strapped into any of the standing, sitting, or lying contraptions seem to be any improvement. The bubbling beakers on the bench looked more like a Frankenstein lab than Adam's workplace and whoever arranged this place didn't seem to worry about the large hypodermics sitting out in the open for any victim to see. At least Adam had kept his decently behind closed doors until needed. This did not seem like a good place to be.
A huge fish tank to one side caught his attention, the size large enough to contain a moderately sized shark. Inside looked like a conglomeration of nothing. No fish, no water, just a lot of what seemed to be a curiously substantial mist inside. He peered at it; yes, he almost thought he could see movement through the fog, then whatever lived in there swirled away.
Hah. At least I didn't see teeth in there. Score one for the good guys.
But the lab itself—and yes, there was no doubt that this was a well-equipped well-funded genetics lab designed for research on mutants, willing and otherwise—was devoid of researchers. And, fortunately, it also seemed devoid of gun-wielding guard types. Jesse could either remain where he was, tied up on the cold and hard floor in a four by four metal cage, or he could phase the hell out of Dodge.
Do we even have to consider this? Jesse phased, and the ropes fell off like rotting vines. He stood up, dusted himself off, grateful that all his body parts were intact and seemed to be functioning at their usual high degree of efficiency. Now to exit this cage and find out why Brennan, Shalimar, and Lexa weren't tearing this place—where ever it was—apart looking for him.
He took hold of the wiring that the cage was made of, preparatory to phasing the material so that he could move into the lab itself and out the door. The instant Jesse touched the bars, he knew he'd made a big mistake. Electrical current crackled into his fingertips, and every muscle he owned including ones he never knew he had spasmed into contorted agony. Jesse's last thought as blackness seized him once again was someone's been taking lessons from Adam on how to take down a molecular. Did they have to be such an apt pupil?
Thank heaven for the miracles of modern pharmaceuticals. Lexa had finally resorting to drugging her teammate to persuade Shalimar to stay in bed and recuperate. Yes, Lexa fully intended to return to the Arrigo facility and tear the place apart looking for answers—if Jesse was dead, she wouldn't leave a single brick standing. Hear that, Arrigo?—but her covert ops training came into play. She needed back up, back up that wasn't likely to bleed from yesterday's emergency appendectomy. And because of that need, the mission needed to happen tomorrow with gratitude for the incredible healing speed of a healthy feral.
Where the hell was Brennan? The elemental hadn't even so much as come up to Shalimar's guest bedroom to see how the feral was doing. Damn man was thinking with his tail again, couldn't see past the nose on the jailbait that he'd rescued. And Brennan hadn't even done much of the rescuing, not that the Windom girl could have seen. Brennan provided cover, the fireworks that acted as a distraction. The only rescuing type people that Mandi chick had seen were her brother and Big Ben the super-soldier.
And Jesse. Lying there dead in the dirt. Lexa ferociously bit her lip, forcing the tears back behind her eyes. Damn you, Jesse Kilmartin, for dying! You and your puppy dog eyes! Damn you for getting under my skin!
Tactics. That needed to come next. They needed to come up with a plan on how to best get the three of them into Arrigo's facility, search it thoroughly, and extract themselves and Jesse's body. Give the man a decent burial, a marker of some kind. Here lies Jesse Kilmartin, a man who got himself killed helping one too many mutants. How stupid was that? Lexa dug her nails into the palms of her hands. Not as good as lip biting, but still effective.
The map that they'd used the first time should do just as well for the second go-around. Lexa headed downstairs to the general living quarters to find someone who could get it for her. It didn't matter who, Ben or that brother or Dr. Dad, but having the map to start the planning phase became a priority. Getting Brennan to participate would also be useful, Lexa had to admit. The man was good at getting in and out of places. Moleculars were fine, but lockpicks were a tool that anyone could use, given enough training. Brennan Mulwray had that training. Lexa trotted down the stairs, eschewing the elevator as being contrary to good exercise.
She found them in the main living area, the Great Room Ben had called it. It was a room that Lexa approved of, when she was in the mood, one that demonstrated both good taste and good financing. It was large, with windows sensibly covered so that snipers couldn't see in, and a well-stocked bar that brother Treo was taking advantage of. Ben relaxed on the over-sized sofa, book in hand and other arm cradled in a white cotton sling that looked horribly out of place in this genteel environment. Unpleasant occurrences didn't happen in rooms such as this. Ben made up for it by burying his nose in a book, and Lexa recalled something about mid-term exams early next week. Ben clearly was serious about his education. He looked up, acknowledged her presence with a distracted smile, sniffed at the rose bouquet sitting on the end table near his head, and dove back into his text.
Not so the remaining pair. Amanda Windom was snuggled up on another upholstered chair, Brennan perched on the arm beside her, smiling at the sixteen year old. Education was the furthest thing from their minds, unless one wanted to include learning the language of love. Lexa did not. But both Ben and Treo seemed oblivious to the billing and cooing going on to one side of the room, seemed to take it as a normal part of everyday life. Seemed to think that Treo would be addressing Brennan as 'brother-in-law' just as soon as Mandi came of age.
When hell freezes over. Lexa marched herself over to the pair. "A word, Brennan." It was not a request. It was an order.
Brennan looked at her disinterestedly. "What's up, Lexa?" And looked back down at Mandi. And smiled.
"Now, Brennan." Lexa glared at the girl. Back off, sister! I've got work for your lover-boy.
That got results—but not the results that Lexa expected. What she had expected was that Brennan would sigh heavily, disengage himself from the clutches of Jailbait Windom, and come outside the room where he'd get the dressing down of his life if Lexa let him live that long. And if he did manage to live, Shalimar would be the next to tear him to shreds when she woke up the next morning and found out why he hadn't been at her bedside. Mulwray, you have plenty to answer for.
Amanda Windom's eyes grew big and round and nervous, and that was all that it took. Treo turned an expression of livid fury onto Lexa for her actions, and his defense of his sister was the mildest of any in the room.
Ben's book got tossed away. The arm came out of the sling, fist clenched, the man perched on the balls of his feet ready to dive at the mutant threatening Amanda. That the mutant happened to be Lexa was immaterial. And, when you came right down to it, Lexa realized, she really didn't know this Ben Sutter person at all. Big super-soldier with only Brennan's word that the scarecrow now had a brain. Right now he didn't look like it. He looked damn dangerous!
And Brennan—! The elemental actually jumped up, turned to place himself between Lexa and Mandi, and raised his arms in attack mode, electrons crackling.
Lexa was taken aback. She lifted her hands in both alarm and surrender. "Okay, guys. If it means that much to you, it can wait." One she could handle, possibly even two, but not three. Lexa started to edge out of the room.
Ben took a long whiff of the rose bouquet at his elbows and relaxed. "It's okay, people. Stand down. Lexa, I'm sorry. We over-reacted. It happens around here sometimes."
So does shit. What the hell just went on here? Brennan was still glaring daggers at her, with Treo helping out but the electrons had gone back inside and the icicles that had begun to form on Treo's hand sublimated into thin air. Lexa had a brief and wild thought: those icicles could be flung like knives and would vanish as soon as they melted. The perfect assassination tool.
"I can see that it does." Lexa swallowed, commanding her own adrenaline to subside. "We'll talk in the morning. Brennan, we have some decisions to make."
"Um." Brennan had already gone back to admiring Miss Jailbait.
Hell in a handbasket. Rapidly.