Echo 8 (8 page)

Ross called down the corridor to Agent Swain. The broad-chested, red-haired agent strode over and joined them.

“Stand here with Doctor Caufield and be ready to pull me away from this door, understand?”

Swain looked wary, but he nodded. “Yes, sir.”

Ross took Tess's place in front of the glass, and he and Jake eyed each other coolly.

“Feeding time at the zoo,” muttered Jake.

“Let's start with each of you a couple inches from the glass,” said Tess. “Now just tell me what you feel.”

Ross wiggled his fingers. “I don't feel anything. Wait … yes, I do. It's like—”

Jake groaned.

“What's wrong?” asked Tess.

Tess saw Ross's fingers move closer to the glass. “Ross, wait!”

Their hands sucked together like magnets, smacking against the window.

“Ross!” she cried again.

“I'm okay,” he said through clenched teeth.

She panted, eyes moving between them. The transfer was happening. Jake squeezed his eyes shut, leaning away from the door, but his hand stuck fast.

“It
hurts
,” said Ross.

“I'm sorry,” Tess replied, trying not to panic. “I should have warned you. Are you in pain too, Jake?”

“No, but I gotta tell you—he doesn't taste as good as you do.”

She could see Jake solidifying. Ross was uncomfortable—perspiration beaded across his forehead and above his lip—but he was lucid and upright. She was about to ask him if he wanted to stop when suddenly he slumped against the door and moaned.

“Let him go, Jake!” Tess shouted.

Tess and Agent Swain grabbed Ross, but the moment she touched him, currents of heat raced up her arms. She gave a yelp of surprise.

Swain dislodged Ross from the door, and Tess was sucked against it. Her face only an inch or two from Jake's, she felt the door shudder on its hinges. Jake's eyes went wide with horror.

“Get her away!” he cried, muscles in his neck straining.

Through the slashing pain of the energy transfer, Tess felt hands clamping down on her arms. But Jake stumbled away from the door, and Tess and the two agents spilled backward onto the floor.

“Shit,” panted Agent Swain, “what just happened?”

“The fade expressed a preference,” muttered Ross, crawling over to Tess.

A cold drop of sweat slipped from his forehead to hers as his fingers searched her throat for a pulse. She knew her heart was beating—fast, in fact—but she didn't realize she couldn't breathe until he bent his ear to her mouth.

Her hand flailed out and grabbed his wrist.

He lifted his head and looked at her. “You're not breathing.”

She shook her head and dug her fingers into his arm.

His hand came to her cheek and he bent close, like he was about to kiss her. “Try to relax,” he urged.

Relax?
She was suffocating!

He tilted her head back and stuck his fingers in her mouth, probing carefully along her tongue to her throat. He withdrew his fingers and took hold of her chin.

“I need you to trust me.”

He pinched her nose closed, and she panicked and struggled.

“
Relax
, Tess.” His mouth closed over hers, and his breath forced its way into her throat. The panicky feeling eased as her lungs expanded with his air.

Ross waited, watching to see if she'd start up again on her own. But her diaphragm had seized, like someone had punched her, and it seemed in no hurry to get going again.

“You're going to be fine,” he soothed. “I think it'll pass if you'll calm down. I'm not going to let you suffocate. I have more than enough air for both of us.”

Finally some of his calm seeped into her, and she nodded. Realizing she'd knotted her hand in his shirt, she opened her fist.

“Good.” He bent and breathed for her again. She closed her eyes and let her thoughts drift to his lips … the soft, firm feel of them against hers.

Suddenly her chest heaved and filled on its own. She pushed him away, rolling onto her stomach, gasping and coughing. As the spasms subsided, she let her head fall against Ross's leg.

“Jesus
Christ
, Doctor.”

 

C
OMPROMISED

If you drink much from a bottle marked “poison,” it is almost certain to disagree with you, sooner or later.

— Lewis Carroll,
Alice's Adventures in Wonderland

“Y
OU OKAY?”
croaked Tess.

Ross stared down at the reddish waves of hair cascading over his thigh. “Yeah.”

But the calm he'd willed himself to feel for Tess's sake had now evaporated. His breaths came quickly as he relived the last moments of the transfer. The way Jake had snatched at Tess
through
him. Jake had fed on Ross, but he
hungered
for Tess. Everything Jake had described that morning about how it felt to feed on her, Ross had experienced as the conduit between them. And it was much more complicated than hunger. Jake wanted her emotionally. Sexually. The impression had been so strong it had left
Ross
with a painful erection.

Tess lifted her head from his leg and sat up, propping herself against the wall. Ross did the same, raising his knees to conceal the evidence.

“Next time we have to do it before he's started to fade,” said Tess. “He was too desperate.”

Ross jerked his chin, motioning the other agent away. Swain holstered his weapon and moved off down the corridor.

“I'm not doing that again,” said Ross. “And neither are you.”

Tess met his gaze. He was pretty good at reading people—
unnaturally
good, a colleague had once said—but at the moment he was coming up empty.

She rose slowly to her feet and started toward Jake's door.

Ross swore and yanked the Glock from its holster. “
Don't
, Doctor.”

“Take it easy. I'm just checking on him.”

Ross pushed himself to his feet and followed.

“Go away, Doc,” Jake growled through the speaker.

“It's okay, Jake,” said Tess. “You're not feeling the same need now, are you?”

“I don't
need
to eat a whole carton of Espresso Chunk ice cream, but that never stops me from doing it.”

“Not the same. That's not hurting anyone but you.”

Jake laughed bleakly, but he didn't reply.

“Don't overreact to this. We talked for a long time this morning, and you never came at me.”

“He wanted to,” said Ross.

“Listen to your boyfriend, Tess. You taste good. Better than Espresso Chunk.”

“Fine,” she agreed, “you wanted to. But you didn't. You stopped quicker this time. You're learning to control it. This is a breakthrough, and we can't afford to walk away from it.”

She glanced at Ross, not exactly in challenge, but not pleading either. Was it a sign of how far his judgment had been compromised that she was the only calm one in this situation?

No, it's a sign of her being the only one who hasn't been in Jake's head
.

“I'm going upstairs to rest,” she continued. “But I'll bring you back some lunch. When you're solid you need food. We'll get a bed in here for you too. It's going to be okay, Jake.”

Jake's defiant expression had slowly morphed to one of shock. “You are one beautiful, fucked-up guardian angel, Doc.”

Ross shoved the Glock in its holster.
That's just great.

Tess headed down the corridor and Ross followed, close enough that when her knees buckled he was able to catch her around the waist—and crash with her to the floor. At least they'd made it to the lobby where there was carpet.

“Sorry, Doctor,” he groaned. “I feel like I've been run over by a truck.”

“I think it got us both. I hope you caught the license.”

Oh, I've got its number all right.

They lay tangled on the floor, too tired to move. Ross knew he should withdraw his hand from her stomach. Curious how long it would take her to notice and wriggle away, he left it there, letting it rise and fall with her breathing.

Ross thought about the power wielded by the tiniest motion in a moment like this. Under the circumstances, it was easy enough to imagine they'd both forgotten where his hand was. But were he to allow the tip of a single finger to press or rub, she would understand it, even if she didn't acknowledge it. It would change everything between them.

He pulled his hand away.

*   *   *

As Tess started upstairs, she couldn't help thinking of Professor Goff—how excited and proud he would be about what she'd accomplished with Jake. His death had left a void no one else could fill. Tess's real father had called her the same day Goff died to tell her, yet again, that she was wasting her life. And the money he'd spent on her education.

“Doctor?”

“Huh?” Tess realized she'd stopped at the second-floor landing, fingers trembling on the handrail. Ross was eyeing her with concern.

“Come on, I'll walk you the rest of the way up. There's something I need to discuss with you.”

The floor plan of Tess's apartment was the same as Ross's, but the similarity stopped there. Ross had only lived here a week, and Tess had spent the last two years making her space comfortable. She had a fat sofa and chair to soften the lines of the exposed-brick wall. An antique trunk, which had clearly been loved by many generations, to serve as a coffee table. Expensive plum-and-gold bedding to console her for the fact the bed was in the same room as her living space. Unfortunately at the moment the duvet, top sheet, and an assortment of clothing were locked in a still-life wrestling match on the floor.

Ross closed the door behind them, and Tess stopped at the kitchen table—another battered relic from a bygone era—to flip open her laptop.

“I'm ordering pizza,” she said. “Anything you don't like?”

He pulled out a chair and sat down. “Anchovies.”

“Coward. Anything else?”

“Mushrooms. Artichokes.”

“I guess I should have asked what you
do
like.”

“Everything else. Really.”

Tess chuckled and filled out the form. She was usually a goat cheese and tomato sort of gal, but she desperately needed protein. She checked both pepperoni and sausage, and added a large spinach salad for good measure.

“Should I order enough for your people?”

“Yeah, go ahead. I'll text Swain and have them keep an eye out for the delivery guy.”

Tess finished the order and hit Send. She sat down adjacent to Ross while he fiddled with his phone. Her eyelids began to droop, and she realized that after food she was going to have to rest. She was used to functioning on very little sleep—rarely did she go to bed before 1 or 2
A.M
.—but the contact with Jake had taken its toll.

Tess spotted a sweater hanging on the back of Ross's chair, and he leaned out of the way as she reached for it. She slipped it on, gripping her fingers over the sleeve ends to cover her wrists and hands.

Ross set his phone aside and gave her an appraising look. “You need to take a break.”

She smiled. “That's what I'm doing.”

As Tess waited to hear whatever it was he had come up here to say, more than hunger fluttered in her stomach. She didn't want a lecture. She was too tired to argue. And she liked him much better when he wasn't telling her what to do.

“I wanted to let you know that I'm requesting reassignment.”

Tess felt like she'd swallowed a stone. It sank into the pit of her stomach.

“You're going back to Washington?

Nodding, Ross rubbed a thumb over the palm of his hand. “If they approve my request. I think they will.”

“Damn.” She gave a hollow chuckle. “I'd just about got you broken in.”

Ross grinned. “I thought I was breaking
you
in.”

“That explains a lot, doesn't it?”

Their laughter was strained and short-lived. Tess folded her hands on the table. “I'd ask you why, but I think I know.”

Ross raised his eyebrows. “Do you?”

“It's because I've been so hard to work with, isn't it? I was just starting to get past that. I
had
noticed you have a few good qualities—in addition to being controlling, overbearing, and arrogant.” She softened this with a teasing smile.

“You've grown on me too, Doctor.”

His gaze felt heavy, and Tess dropped hers. She dug a fingernail into a gouge in the tabletop, but the old wood was too hard to yield to such an attack.

“Despite the fact I'm moody, impulsive, and generally a pain in the ass?”

“Please let the record reflect that you said that, not me.”

“Hmm.” She cut her gaze at him. “If it's not because I'm a bitch, or because you're risking your life for me every five minutes, or because we're having the rainiest summer on record and it's two thousand miles to the nearest decent bagel, then what's not to love about this assignment?”

If she thought she'd make him laugh, she was mistaken. Granite was more jovial.

“I want to be the one to let you know I am leaving, but I can't talk to you about why. I'm sorry.”

“You mean because you'd have to kill me, or because it makes you uncomfortable?”

A brittle smile was his only reply.

“You know they're just going to send someone else, Ross.” She couldn't keep a note of resentment from her tone. “I'd rather not start all over with a stranger without knowing what went wrong here.”

She wasn't being completely honest with him, but to do so would require being more honest with herself.

“That's not really my problem, Doctor.”

Stung, Tess got up and walked to the windows on the other end of the apartment. She frowned at the street below, folding her hands to stop the trembling.