Her Own Best Enemy (The Remnants, Book 1) (39 page)

A bead of sweat trickled under the collar of Cam’s shirt and slid slowly down his spine. His watch counted down his demise with the explosive tick from its second hand. He held his breath. Pressure built in his lungs and screamed for release.

The squawk of a walkie-talkie cracked the silence. “Movement on the first floor. Can you check it out?”

A ragged sigh plundered into the static. “Ten-four. I’m on my way.”

The man moved away from the hood, his footsteps punctuating his brisk walk to the door.

Cam peered around the corner and watched the man duck out of the lab. He sagged against the wall. Relief flushed his veins and air flooded his deprived lungs. He waited several tense minutes to make sure the guard wouldn’t return then tumbled out of the alcove and onto the floor. He had never been able to resist a puzzle and couldn’t help being intrigued by the one he’d just stumbled upon.

He’d stake his Aviator—the only thing in his possession worth a damn—that something sinister was afoot in Nanodyne’s hallowed halls.

***

Audra McCain rapped her knuckles on the glass and waved at the security guard. He rose from his station at the desk and strode over to unlock the door.

“It’s a little early for work, Dr. McCain,” he remarked as he let her inside.

She glanced at the bronze clock hanging in Nanodyne’s foyer. Twelve-thirty a.m. God, he must think her completely loony, coming in at this time of night.

She sent the guard a small smile. “I couldn’t sleep.”

Weariness crawled up her spine, but it seemed she and her good buddy, insomnia, were destined to keep each other company a little while longer.

With her assistant on an extended leave, her workload doubled. But she’d gladly pick up the slack if it meant Margaret could spend twenty-four hours a day at her daughter’s bedside. A pang pierced Audra’s heart as she rooted in her tote bag for her identification card. She hoped the young girl would pull through.

Audra slid her card through the reader, dropped her bag on the x-ray’s conveyor belt then walked through the metal detector to find the guard looking at her expectantly. Still wondering what she was doing here, no doubt.

“I was lying awake in bed and suddenly realized what’s wrong with the liquid in the carbon nanotubes.” She grinned and shook her head. “It’s all in the ratio. I need to make adjustments before I take my samples to ChemTech this afternoon.”

He appeared dazed by her scientific babble. “Have a good day, Dr. McCain.”

“You too.” She snagged her bag off the x-ray machine and slung it over her shoulder.

She stepped into the elevator and punched the second floor button, a burst of energy coursing through her veins. One month until deadline on her prototype and she needed every minute of it for the final testing. It wouldn’t do to come in late on her first big government contract.

The steel doors slid open and she headed for her lab. She slid her card through the secured access and punched in her code. Pulling open the door, she stepped inside and flipped the light switch, a possessive thrill zinging through her as she headed for her desk.

Her lab.
She loved saying that. Loved the pristine white walls and the sharp clean lines of her equipment. Everything had an order. A place. A—

What the hell?

She squinted at the small circlet of blue that glowed around her computer’s power button. Her heart squeezed. No way did she leave it on. Her boss demanded tight security; she insisted on it herself as well. Her research was her life. But if she hadn’t left it on…

She dashed over to her desk and dumped her bag on top. Her shaky hand slid over the mouse and wiggled it. The computer screen blinked to life and sent a jolt of dread up her spine. Oh, God, no. Someone had accessed the schematics for her prototype.

She’d spent three years of intense research and development on her revolutionary dynamic armor in the hopes of changing the fate of soldiers on the battlefield. With the armor’s unique properties that allowed it to harden or soften as needed she would help save lives. But not if someone intended to undermine all her hard work.

Everything from the complexities of the nano-fabric to the magnetic field ratio was spelled out in her computer. She’d thought the state-of-the-art password protection impenetrable. If someone had managed to crack into her computer, what was to stop them from—?

She gasped. “No. Oh, please, no.”

The denial burst from her lips and she continued the chant as she snatched up her ID card and made a beeline for the vault at the back of the lab. She slipped the card through the reader and pressed her thumb to the biometric scanner. Her pulse quivered at her throat until the lock disengaged.

She tore open the door. “Thank God.”

Relief turned her tense muscles to mush. With a shaky breath, she reached out and fingered the lightweight material of the suit. The armor was safe.

Safe? What was she thinking? If anything her prototype was more at risk then it was minutes before. Whoever accessed her files might intend to return for the armor at any moment. She had to call security. Right now.

Audra slammed the vault shut, spun—and nearly collided with someone blocking her path. She pulled up short. Her eyes jerked to the man’s obstinate gray ones. A lock of thick brown hair edged across his furrowed brow, his sharp jaw pulled taut.

Unease snaked through her stomach and wound its way up her throat until she had to breathe in short, choppy bursts.

“Why didn’t he grab the armor?” Though his question was muttered between tense lips, she caught the perplexity in his words and hesitated.

Who was
he
? The man’s accomplice?

His gaze narrowed and he reached for her. Her eyes widened as his rough hand drew closer and her heart leapt into her seized esophagus, jarring a high-pitched scream from her voice box.

“Be quiet, damn it!” he hissed.

But she was through listening to anything he had to say. Her adrenaline spiked, she shoved his hand aside and twisted her body to duck past him. All she had to do was make it to her desk and call security. Her shoes squeaked against the tile with every footfall, closing the distance between her and the phone.

She was almost there. Almost—

The man’s muscled arm wrapped around her shoulders, his hard chest pressed against her back. “Damn it. Would you wait a minute?” His warm breath grazed her ear and sent a shiver down her spine. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Wasn’t that what all the bad guys said moments before they strangled the life out of you?

She wasn’t going to fall for it. She pitched forward in an effort to break the man’s hold, but his muscles barely tightened against her frantic movements. Struggling wasn’t going to get her anywhere. She needed a weapon—the sharper the better.

She shot out her hand over her immaculate desk. No stapler or letter opener in sight. Damn it, why did she have to be so organized? Her fingers wiggled, reaching, reaching for anything—

“Take it easy—”

—and connected with the handle of her ceramic mug. She closed it in her grasp, swung the cup off her desk in the direction of what she hoped was the man’s head.

His arm fell away from her shoulders and darted upward to block the quasi-weapon from connecting with his skull. He closed his hand around the mug and wrenched it from her grip.

“What’s with all the aggressive shit?” His eyes slid over her like molten steel. “I said I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Like I’m supposed to believe that.” Her chest heaved and she stiffened against the desk.

“I’m a man of my word.” From the way his gaze bored into hers and his jaw pulled tight into a serious kink, she could see he was telling the truth. But he ruined the effect with a scowl. “No need to go all Rambo on me.”

“You were attacking me—”

“I wasn’t attacking you. I was trying to keep you from doing something stupid.” He glanced at her mug and a short chuckle burst past his lips as he read the caption. “Nice.”

Heat crawled up her cheeks. She held out her hand. “Give that to me.”

“Scientists,” he read out loud in a voice dripping with laughter, “just regular people...who are way smarter than you.”

She notched her chin in the air. And because she was smarter than him, she refused to let herself get sucked in by the intriguing twinkle in those smiling eyes. “I’m calling security.”

The cocky bastard had the gall to grin at her pronouncement.

***

The moment Dr. McCain’s hand touched the phone Cam realized he’d taken the wrong approach. He’d hoped to intimidate her with his ruthless charm and sinister good looks, but hell if it wasn’t working. Maybe he should’ve combed his hair and popped a breath mint.

Damn. After escaping detection from the security guard, he’d hoped to finish his assessment of the lab’s security and be on his way. The last thing he needed was some uppity scientist ruining his careful plans. Unfortunately, she had the authority to put an end to not only this mission, but his shaky future as well.

What was Dr. McCain doing here in the wee hours of the morning? Hell, for a quiet research facility, this place had turned into Grand Central Station. Was there anyone who
hadn’t
been in this laboratory tonight?

The brassy redhead was getting ready to call security and have him thrown from the joint. He had to stop her.

Think, Cam. You alone know the powers of the dark side.

“You don’t want to do that.” He deepened his voice.
That’s it, use the force, Young Jedi.

He covered her cold hand with his own sweat dampened one. Tension skated across his shoulders. If she called security he was sunk.

He ducked his head and caught sight of her French manicured nails peeping out from beneath his fingers then dragged his focus up to her pale face and her deep brown eyes as they shot daggers at him.
Ouch. Yes, I’ll take a whiskey on icicles, thank you very much.

A single strand of her red hair straggled from the haphazard knot behind her head and drew his attention to the half-moon scar beneath her right eye.

“I don’t know who you are or what you want,” she said, “but the only way you’re leaving here is with an escort.”

“You volunteering?” He forced his brow into an arch.

Her jaw clenched. “Not without handcuffing you first.”

Ah, so she was a feisty one was she? He ran his gaze over her flushed face, down her baggy green t-shirt that concealed her figure, and followed through to the tips of her sensible sneakers before coming back to rest on her face. She narrowed her eyes at him and something raw and elemental jolted through him. He appreciated a woman with backbone. And this one—he blew out a breath—yeah, she was in a league of her own.

“You know, I’m just not into that kinky stuff.” He tsked. “I mean, a little spanking...maybe, but I—”

One of those pristine sneakers slammed into his left knee. His leg collapsed beneath him. Pain pulsed through his kneecap and he started to crumble toward the ground. He caught the edge of her desk and hauled himself to his feet, a muscle throbbing in his jaw.

Her eyes widened briefly on his leg but she shook her head and snatched up the receiver.

Man, she was one tough lab rat. She’d just injured his knee and his pride without so much as a blink.

He sucked in a deep breath as the spasm in his knee passed. No time to work out a better solution. He’d have to call her bluff.

“Look, if you’re desperate to call someone, why not ring Charlie. He’ll clear this up. Do you have his cell number?” He reached toward his back pocket for his wallet.

Her brows drew together and the corners of her generous lips sank into a frown. She clutched the phone to her chest. “Ch—Charlie? Danvers?”

He planted an innocent expression on his face. “Yeah, you know, your boss.”

A flush rushed into her pale cheeks. “Of course I know Charlie, but how do you—”

“Good.” He shot her a smile, steeling his gut against the queasy doubt that decided to take up residence, and slid the phone from her grip. “Now that we’re one big happy family, I’ll just be on my way.”

He set the receiver in the cradle. A pinch of truth, a dash of manipulation, and he was done. Please, God, let him be done. “It was nice meeting you, Dr. McCain.”

He strode past tables of high-tech equipment and headed for the door with a confidence he didn’t feel.

“I’m sorry I can’t say the same for you,” she said, a hint of steel in her voice. “How did you say you knew Charlie, again?”

He froze. “I didn’t.” He rolled his shoulders. “You’ll have to take that up with Charlie.”

“Don’t think I won’t.”

He reached out to grab hold of the doorknob, his molars grinding painfully against each other. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Oh. And I’m still calling security.”

He forced himself to look Dr. McCain in the eye. With one arched brow, she dared him.

Him. The one who’d made winning his life’s mission.

His fingers crushed into the knob. He opened the door a crack as she lifted the receiver, her fingers poised over the number pad.