Changed (Second Sight) (6 page)

A deep ‘unh’ flew from his lips.

Then he couldn’t get any air. It was all he could do to protect his head from their feet. There were two of them and they had him pinned.

THOUGH IT’D ONLY been half of a drink, Geoffrey decided to make the best of his opportunity. As he drew Isabelle away from the broken glass and spilled tea, he tugged her waist to his and wrapped his arms around her. She swayed in his grasp.

“Geoffey,” she slurred. “
Don’t
.”

The feel of her was amazing. Her lithe body twisted against him and her waist almost disappeared in his grasp. She put her hands on his chest and tried to push but he hugged her tighter and smiled down at her.

“You’re even cuter when you’re high,” he said.

She shook her head as though she could clear it.

“I’m not–”

He smothered her mouth in a kiss. Wet and sweet, her mouth was luscious. But he’d misjudged her high. No sooner had his tongue pushed between her lips than he felt her bite down.
 

Quickly, he snapped his head backwards and shoved her away.
 

She careened off the railing and stumbled along it as he grabbed his tongue and then looked at his fingers. She hadn’t drawn blood but, damn, that had
hurt
.

He chuckled a little.

“You want to play
rough
?” he said, following her.

Because now
he
did.

•••••

As yet another kick flew toward his midsection, Mac quickly uncovered his head and grabbed the boot. With a savage twist, he wrenched it counter-clockwise like a steering wheel. The feel of cartilage crunching was accompanied by a wet popping sound as the man screamed.
 

Mac shoved.

As he pushed to his hands and knees, Mac sucked in a breath. The second guard was rushing past the one who was going down. He had picked up the chair. Though he needed another lungful of air, there wasn’t time. Instead, Mac pushed off the wall and launched himself into the man’s midsection. As the chair came down on his back, Mac savagely uppercut, right between the man’s legs.
 

They both went to their knees.

Though his lungs burned and pain radiated through his spine, Mac didn’t stop. The guard whose knee he’d twisted was hobbling on one foot and reaching for the chair. Mac pushed to his feet and lunged for it. His hand landed on one of the back legs and, as his lunge turned into a roll, Mac came up swinging. The chair connected solidly with the guard’s head and torso, knocking him completely sideways where he sprawled in front of the lab door. Breathing hard, Mac surveyed the hallway.

Darren’s back retreated down the corridor. The second guard was still clutching his groin, kneeling, still as a statue. But Mac couldn’t take any chances. Though he tossed the chair to the floor, he followed it with a quick cross to the man’s face. His head snapped sideways and, still holding his groin, he simply tilted like a log and landed on his face.

Mac took a moment to catch his breath and glanced back at the door to the lab. His cell phone was on the floor. As he stooped to pick it up, he saw that the call with Tim had ended.
 

For a moment, he stared at it.

Tim had said something–something about
food
poisoning.

Mac automatically looked down the hall in front of him and at the place where the kitchen would be on the ground level.

He knew how Maurice was going to spread the toxin.

He couldn’t let that happen but, as he took off at a run, his mind railed against him.

You have to find Isabelle!

•••••

Isabelle grunted as Geoffrey’s arm grabbed her from behind, constricted around her middle, and lifted her off her feet. She jackknifed over his arm as the world crazily tilted and she lost any sense of up or down. The
only
thing she knew was she had to get away. Her feet flailed but didn’t reach the ground. She tried to tug at Geoffrey’s arm but it wouldn’t move. She tried to scream but she couldn’t get a breath.
 

In moments though, he’d let her go and she lurched backward.
 

With a jarring huff, she landed on the lounge chair, followed immediately by Geoffrey’s hand landing on her chest. He shoved. Her back collided with the inclined cushion and suddenly Geoffrey’s face was in front of her.

“If you want
rough
,” he said as his lips curled into a snarl. “You got
rough
.”

His fingers wound into her hair and yanked, as his mouth smashed down on hers.

“No!” she tried to scream but her voice was muffled by his lips.
 

She tried to bite him.

“Oh no you don’t,” he yelled, pulling quickly away.
 

As he held her head down, his teeth bit into her neck.

“No!” she screamed. “
Stop!
”

His hand clamped down over her mouth.

“Not so loud,” he said against her throat. “I haven’t given you anything to scream about.” He bit her under the jaw. “
Yet
.”

His weight pressed down on her chest but she realized with a shock that her hands were free. She tried to hit him but her arms wouldn’t cooperate. She tried to scratch him but found she couldn’t with the gloves.

His slobbering bites were working their way down her throat, her chest.

No!

Isabelle found his head, grabbed two handfuls of hair, and pulled.

Suddenly, the pressure on her body disappeared.

“Okay,” Geoffrey said. “That’s enough.”

For a moment, she wasn’t quite sure what to do. She raised her head to find that she was alone.
 

“Oh god,” she breathed.
 

Using the arm of the chair, she tugged herself into a sitting position. The deck tilted and swayed but was empty. Where had he gone? It didn’t matter. This was her chance.

But, as she tried to stand, her legs crumpled underneath her. Instead of getting up, she slid off the side of the lounge. With a jolt, she dropped to the deck, sitting hard on her own legs.

No, no, no. Get up!

But now, with nothing to grab, she could barely sit up straight. She twisted in place and threw one arm over the cushion. Though she pulled with all her might, she couldn’t move her own weight.
 

“Here we are,” said Geoffrey. Her shoulder was wrenched around so fast her head couldn’t keep up. But when she finally turned to face him, a glass was forced into her mouth. “Drink up,” he said.

“FBI!” MAC YELLED as he ran into the main dining room. “FBI!”

One woman near him screeched and dropped her plate. It crashed to the floor as she cowered away.

Mac thrust his badge up into the air.

“I’m FBI Special Agent MacMillan and the food has been poisoned!”
 

Incredulous stares met him. A man in the corner stood up. The woman who had dropped her plate backed away from the spilled food.
 

But no one else moved.

They looked at their plates and each other.
 

“It’s
botulism
,” Mac said. “Maurice has tainted it with botulism.”

One of the women at a table to his left stood.

“That’s
ridiculous
,” she said, her face contorted in anger. Her pregnancy ballooned in front of her, her hands holding it. “Dr. Girod would never
do
such a thing.”

Another woman stood up next to her.

“We all eat together!” the other woman said, looking around her, motioning for others to stand.

“Geoffrey wouldn’t poison us!” said another pregnant woman as she struggled to her feet.

“It’s not Geoffrey!” Mac said, pocketing his badge. “It’s Maurice. Dr. Maurice
Giraudot
not Girod. If you want to see the dead lab rats, you only have to follow me.” He jabbed his thumb back at the hallway. “They’re right upstairs.” He turned his glare on the two women standing together. “Do you want to see?”

“It’s a
lie
,” said the first one but she didn’t seem quite as sure of herself.

“Then
eat
,” Mac said. He looked at the bowl of stew in front of her. “Do you really want to take that risk?”

“Wait,” said the woman who’d dropped her plate. She turned to a young woman who barely looked eighteen. She’d just arrived at the dining hall behind Mac and was staring into the room, her mouth open. “Jackie,” said the woman. “Do you remember? When we were chopping in the kitchen?”

Jackie stopped staring at Mac and finally turned her eyes to the woman.
 

“Remember?” Jackie said. “Remember what?”

“Remember Dr. Maurice? He was taking a measurement in the kitchen.”

“No,” someone seated at one of the long tables said. “No, he was taking a sample.”

“Geoffrey interrupted him,” said someone else.

The sound of chairs scooting away from the tables started to fill the air.

“I’ve already eaten!” screamed someone.

“Me too!” yelled someone else.

“Stay calm,” Mac yelled over the growing din. “Help is on its way. Stay calm!”

•••••

Rough was all well and good but Geoffrey didn’t need his hair pulled.

Or his face scratched. He’d had too many surgeries to risk that.
 

It never did to bruise the girls either. Memory loss didn’t hide a bruise.

“Drink up,” he muttered.

Isabelle had sunk to the deck, the chaise lounge behind her the only thing keeping her upright. He stood over her, straddling her, his knees pinning her shoulders back, making her thrust her chest out. With a deft movement he’d done many times before, he quickly pinched her nose and forced her head back. Her mouth automatically opened and he poured the tea in. Though she quickly shut her mouth, it’d been enough. Geoffrey tossed the glass aside and held her mouth shut.

Isabelle’s eyes went wide as she realized what he was doing. Though she tried to grab his hands, her pinned shoulders wouldn’t allow her arms enough range of motion. They virtually flopped at her sides. She was sitting on her own legs and, as he gave her head a quick shake, she tried to jerk away.

“Swallow,” he said, bringing his face close to hers. “Be a good girl and
swallow
or you’ll choke.”

Though he thought for a moment that she might actually strangle, she finally swallowed.

He let her nose go and her nostrils immediately flared and she sucked in air. She tried to reach for the hand that covered her mouth but Geoffrey had had enough of the biting. His tongue was sore and throbbing. He grabbed her hair and forced her head back even farther. He’d waited this long, he could wait five more minutes.

AS MAC FINALLY enlisted the aid of some of the cooler heads, they began to separate those who’d eaten something, anything, from those who hadn’t. A couple of people had called for emergency rescue, apparently not believing help was already coming. But at least pandemonium had been averted. Plates of uneaten food were everywhere. Word had also been sent to the other dining rooms in the dorms. But, in all of this, no one had seen either Maurice or Geoffrey.
 

Or Isabelle.

Though he’d already tried once, there was no better way to cover the entire commune than the security monitors. They
had
to be somewhere on the premises. Mac backed out of the dining room and, in moments, he was bounding up the stairs. Almost like a routine now, he quickly rounded the corner into the hallway where the monitors were. As he got there, the door was just closing. He glimpsed the back of someone who’d just entered–someone wearing a white lab coat.

Mac half-opened, half-kicked the door open. It sailed through the air, colliding with the wall and bouncing back with a loud bang. The ploy had its desired effect as Dr. Maurice Giraudot jumped into the air.
 

“Hello,
doctor
,” Mac said. He grabbed him by the lapels and threw him against the wall. Maurice’s head knocked against it and his glasses fell off. “Here to observe your handiwork?”

“Take your hands off me!” Maurice said.

Mac put his forearm across the doctor’s throat and pushed.

“Where is
Isabelle?
”

“I don’t know,” Maurice managed to squeak. He grabbed Mac’s arm and tried to move it.

Mac pushed harder.

“
Where is she?
”

Maurice’s eyes bulged.

“
I…don’t…know,
” he whispered.

“Tell me,” Mac snarled. “
Or you
will
die
. Before anyone gets here,” Mac said as he shoved again, “I’ll kill you.” He eased off. “Where is she?”

“I…” Maurice’s mouth opened and closed like a fish. “Geof…frey,” he mouthed.

“And
where
is Geoffrey?”

Maurice flicked his eyes toward the door.

“Third door,” he wheezed.

•••••

Geoffrey took Isabelle under the arms and lifted.

“There we go,” he said, straining a little as he hauled her up.
 

From where she sat on the deck, he only had to get her up to the chaise lounge. Her petite frame was light and her struggling had almost stopped. Even so, he wanted to be careful not to hurt his back. He’d already done that once. He used his legs to lift and then moved her backward. Quickly, he settled her down on the cushion and let her fall sideways.

“No,” she muttered as she landed with a soft thud.

Geoffrey lifted her legs onto the lounge and rolled her to her back.

“There,” he said, standing and gazing down at her.

He hardly knew where to start.

The lounge was barely wide enough for him to straddle her but he managed with his knees at her waist. As he sat on her hips, though, she tried to sit up.

“No,” she said, the gorgeous eyes half-closed, her hands batting the air. “Geoffey–” she slurred. He easily pushed her back and she landed with another thud and a little grunt. God it was sexy how she said his name. His arousal throbbed in his shorts and he quickly grabbed her breasts.