Dare You to Run (9 page)

Saxon didn't answer her. She made a low sound under her breath and took off toward the street. She heard him bite back a word of profanity before charging after her. He reached out and pulled her to a stop just a few steps from the sidewalk.

“Didn't you learn your lesson the last time you left your escort behind?” he demanded in a low tone as his fingers bit into her bicep.

“I learned a lot of things,” she countered as she tried to yank free. “What I want to know is, didn't you and your brother learn anything? The only reason you'd be assigned to me is if you pulled strings to get the duty.”

Saxon released her arm but positioned himself between her and the sidewalk. “Know so much about me, do you?”

“Babysitting dinner parties is beneath your skill level,” she stated clearly.

There was a momentary flicker of appreciation in his eyes before he shifted his attention away from her gaze to the dragonfly in her hair. His eyes narrowed as he looked at it. The large gold insect had been her grandmother's, and she never went anywhere without it.

A private sedan had pulled up, thinking she wanted to leave. On impulse, she started toward it.

Saxon pulled her back. “Now you're just being stupid,” he said.

“You're the last person I'd think would be telling me I should just fall into line with my sire's plans.”

Saxon's eyes narrowed. “You don't know anything about me.”

“Fine.” She pulled on her arm, but he held it. “Maybe I just thought you were more like your brother.”

“You don't know him either.” Saxon released her, but still stood between her and the street.

“I know Vitus doesn't play political bullshit games.” She shot him a glare. “And he's smart. Really smart.”

She turned her back on him, returning to the restaurant. Carl Davis wanted to have dinner with her? Fine. She was going to make sure he learned the error of his ways.

*   *   *

“Your father would like to see you in his study.”

Damascus wasn't surprised by the summons. For all of Carl's bragging about liking her spirit, she knew he'd go whining to her sire once their date was over. It was a small victory but one she savored because it helped bolster her confidence. Set to embark on her new life path, she was ready to leave everything behind. She'd gone through a lot of trouble to make sure she was ready, but there was still a tiny part of her that hesitated ripping away from everything she knew.

Well, it was time to grow past it.

She left her suite and went down the hallway toward the center of the house. It was a huge mansion, complete with indoor swimming pool. The carpet beneath her feet was plush and deep. There was no reason to knock on the study door. Her father's personal head of security, Tyler Martin, was standing there. He opened the door for her, his lips set in a smug grin.

The man made her skin crawl.

Tyler was a relatively new face, at least on a full-time basis. He had always come and gone, but now he was firmly attached to her father's hip. He didn't have the same detached manner about him that the other Secret Service members had. No, when Tyler was looking at her, he made sure she knew it.

And she felt like she needed a shower afterward.

“Shut that door,” Jeb snapped the moment she crossed into the huge study.

Tyler shut the door but from the inside. The man actually pushed her forward so hard she stumbled.

“What the hell?” she demanded.

“That's what
I'd
like to know,” Jeb snapped, drawing her attention off Tyler. “From both of you.”

She looked behind her and caught Tyler wiping the smirk off his lips.

“What in the hell was Saxon Hale doing anywhere near my daughter?” Jeb tossed a picture down on the desk he was seated behind.

Tyler stepped close and picked it up. It was a full-color shot of Saxon holding onto her arm outside of the restaurant plastered across the front page of a tabloid.

C
ONGRESSMAN'S
D
AUGHTER
D
AMASCUS
R
YLAND
C
AUGHT IN
L
OVER'S
Q
UARREL
O
UTSIDE
E
XCLUSIVE
W
ASHINGTON
D.C
.
C
LUB

“And what were you doing leaving Carl siting at a table waiting for you?” her sire demanded.

Her temper was rising, burning away the layers of caution she'd wrapped herself up in over the last few years. “I was leaving.”

It wasn't a wise thing to say, even less intelligent of her to voice it in front of a witness. Her sire didn't take lip from her, and he was the most dangerous when there was no witness around because he'd take his retribution where no one saw him do it. Jeb raised his hand and slapped her. She turned with the force of the blow but returned to glaring at him, the sting reaffirming her decision to never fall into line with what he wanted.

She would get out.

Her sire didn't care for her courage. He considered her for a long moment before he walked across the study and stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows that afforded him a view of his perfectly manicured grounds.

“You think you've got it all figured out, don't you, Damascus.” It wasn't a question. She felt a chill touch her nape because she'd heard the tone before. Her sire was making ready to drop a bombshell on her.

Jeb Ryland turned around to face her. “Your mother hasn't been feeling well.”

Her blood felt like it dropped ten degrees. Jeb didn't miss the reaction.

“That's right,” he continued as he strolled slowly back toward her. “I'm becoming concerned. It's possible I might have to have her admitted to a very exclusive clinic where she will get very … personalized care. I plan to oversee it myself.”

The way he said “personalized” horrified her. He knew it too, and gave her a long moment to allow his meaning to sink in.

“Defy me and the next time you see your mother, she'll be wearing a diaper and playing with finger paints. How hard do you think it will be to get a doctor to write up a diagnosis?”

“She's your wife,” Damascus said in a hollow whisper, one that betrayed just how horrified she was.

“Yes, and she's been a good one. In fact”—Jeb lifted a finger and tapped her on the tip of her nose—“it would seem she hasn't yet outlived her usefulness. Yup, a good wife, that's what she's been.”

He watched for a moment before looking past her to Tyler. “Take her back to her room and have Trenton make sure she stays there.”

She wanted to snarl at him.

Wanted to unleash her anger on him.

But she turned and settled for shooting Tyler a furious look when he tried to grab her elbow. She walked out of the study even though it was one of the hardest things she'd ever done. She wanted to fight, needed to rage against the way her sire was trying to push her down and hold her there, beneath his heel.

She'd never thought he'd turn against her mother.

Well, you should have.

Back in her room, she paced around the cream and lilac–colored furniture. Her suite was over a thousand square feet of luxury that felt worse than the concrete cell Vitus had pulled her out of. It was a cage, just as surely as any cell was.

Just as a clinic retreat would be to her mother.

She sat down, feeling overwhelmed by circumstances. Her carefully plotted future was suddenly further from her reach than she'd ever thought it might be.

Maybe impossible …

No! She forced herself to stand. She refused to quit. She hadn't given up in the concrete cell and she wasn't going to throw in the towel now. There was a way around, something she hadn't thought of yet. Wasn't that what the field she was going into had taught her? Diseases had ravaged the globe for centuries, and yet people came along to defeat some of those germs. She wasn't going to give in, she was going to figure out a way to succeed. Just like those scientists had.

At least that was what she intended to tell herself until she believed it.

*   *   *

“I didn't expect to hear from you for another couple of weeks, Ms. Ryland.”

Colonel Bryan Magnus pointed at the chair in front of his desk. Damascus fought the urge to look over her shoulder as she slid into the seat. She was taking a risk, but it was necessary. The colonel headed up the classified study program that she had secretly transferred into three years ago. The office was four stories beneath the surface of the university grounds, and very few people knew it was there. She certainly hadn't until the colonel had made contact with her. With her father insisting she cut her ties with Vitus, the offer had been the perfect retaliation, a golden ticket to a future of her design, instead of one her father laid out for her.

She'd made a grave miscalculation in overlooking the threat to her mother, and that just pissed her off because normal people didn't have to worry about their father using their mother against them.

But she did have to worry, so she looked the colonel in the eye. “I have a complication,” she said evenly.

“At this stage of the game Ms. Ryland, you will be expected to fulfill your contract to us.”

The colonel folded his hands and put them on the desktop. Bryan Magnus had always presented a controlled persona to her. Honestly, she couldn't recall ever seeing him smile, and now she caught a hint of disapproval in his eyes. One she didn't want to see grow.

“My father has threatened to have my mother admitted to a clinic if I don't proceed with an engagement he's given his blessing on.”

There was a slight narrowing of the colonel's eyes. “You have been through classes that included classified materials and information. Were the terms of your commitment to us unclear?”

“No,” Damascus answered firmly. “I am eager to fulfill them.”

“Glad to hear it,” Bryan Magnus said. “I'd hate to have to have you arrested on your graduation day.”

His tone left it very clear that he wouldn't hesitate to do it. She shoved her misgivings aside. Nothing was free. Especially not the freedom and protection she needed. It had been made painfully clear to her that in exchange for her admittance into the classified program, she would be expected to take a position with them.

“Trying to slip out of my commitment to your team works a little better when I don't clue you in on my plans. I'm here because you said to come to you if I had a difficultly.” She was grasping at straws, but at least the colonel represented a very sturdy, reliable straw.

“I did,” the colonel confirmed. “I will look into the matter.”

It wasn't a promise. Damascus tried not to dwell on the lack of satisfaction the meeting gave her. At least she had somewhere to go. Oh, it wasn't without its price. Wasn't that life? There was always something owed for something given. The calendar might say she was living in the modern age, but there were plenty of times when she felt like she had a lot in common with her ancestors from several centuries ago.

She made her way past doors that were locked and only had numbers on them. Learning to navigate the underground complex took concentration, because there were precious few details to distinguish one gray concrete-block hallway from another. Letting her mind wander was asking to end up having the military police rescue her.

She didn't like to admit how she knew that bit of information. It wasn't very flattering.

Navigating the complex had become easier with time and honestly, it was a labor of love because it was the one place her sire couldn't touch her. Part of her truly enjoyed knowing Trenton was waiting outside a door somewhere, fully confident that she was in the laboratory on the other side of it. The further she'd gotten in her studies, the more space Colonel Magnus and his staff had placed between her and her sire's security. At least while she was on campus. It was trained personal only inside the lab, and no exceptions. She'd never once thought the commitment she was making to the government was too high for what she'd get in return.

The knowledge had kept her sane, a tightly gripped secret weapon against her sire's strangling hold on her. The threat against her mother was just further proof that she had to escape or face a lifetime of abuse.

Her belly tightened as she thought of her mother. It was possible her sire was lying. She just couldn't afford to take the chance. Her mother was sweet and completely in love with being a congressman's wife. She did charity events, read stories to first-graders, served lunch in soup kitchens, and made sure the Ryland name was on the lips of the press for all the right reasons.

It was possible her mother was as fake as her sire, but Damascus had never seen it. So she held out hope that the only thing her mother was guilty of was loving and believing in the wrong man.

Damascus took another flight of stairs and went to exit the building through a different door than she'd entered it—one of Colonel Magnus's rules. Never be predictable, except for when it came to her home life. The colonel had given her plenty of suggestions for helping to lull her sire into thinking she was tamed.

The sunlight made her blink as her eyes adjusted. She'd closed the door before she could see completely. She'd started across the expanse of open lawn that the university boasted. Something caught her eye, and she turned to look toward one of the outdoor seating areas. Spring was just about to give way to early summer and the plants were taking advantage of the warm weather. The benches were partially hidden behind foliage gone mad, but she saw him. Saxon Hale was turning to take cover, but she knew without a doubt it was him.

How had he found her?

She stood still for a moment trying to figure the puzzle out, and when she did, her temper sizzled.

Her dragonfly.

The one thing she always had on her. It was around her wrist at the moment. She fingered its wings as she abruptly changed direction and went back through the door she'd just exited. She ran down a hallway and across another until she found a door that let her out near the library.