Night Whispers: ShadowLands, Book 1 (38 page)

She blinked at him. “Um.”

“Seriously. The things you’ve done, the people you’ve saved. I could tell you what each of those people has gone on to do for us and for others, but I don’t want to bore you.”

Her cheeks were turning red. “Oh. Well.”

“So, James managed to rescue you, huh? I felt if anyone could do it, he would.” Gabriel smiled at James. “I think this trip was good for you, son. Your grandpa is going to be proud.”

James ducked his head, but Jules could tell he was pleased.

“Now. Tell me everything.”

James gave her an encouraging glance. She started the tale, beginning with her capture at the hands of the other group and ending with them leaving Canada. James added his two cents from when he had come into the picture.

Gabriel listened intently, soaking in every word. When she got to the end, she waited, her heart beating hard, half-expecting him to shout,
Off with the freak’s head.

He was silent for a minute, as if he needed to process it all. “Did you get any names of who is in charge of this disgusting operation?”

“No, sir.”

“But your hunch is that it’s someone operating out of Cheyenne?”

“I could be wrong. Erik said it was a group claiming to be the government, and he was held there in the beginning. And we were in close proximity to the area. The doctor and the guard spoke of their bosses with a lot of fear, but no specifics. I suppose you could send out the soldiers you had planned on and we could find out.”

The lines around Gabriel’s mouth deepened. “I’ll have to think on it. The idea that the other half of our split government could do something like this is troubling for me. Those of us who have been here from the beginning have, obviously, strong ties to the people who went to ground there.”

“Sure.”

“It would be helpful if we could question this Erik. Or at the very least get a sample of his blood.” He shot a wry glance at James. “Nice job, giving him the means to get away.”

James shrugged. “You can find him, as long as he has Jules’s van. At the time, my priority was keeping Jules and Carrie secure.”

“Fair enough.” Gabriel nodded, his furrowed brow telling her he was working some complex problem out in his brain. James cleared his throat, and Gabriel snapped back to them. “I’m thrilled you survived, side effects or no. I’ll ask that you and Carrie speak with the doctors and give your consent to any blood tests, if you don’t mind.”

“I would be happy to. I’ll discuss it with Carrie, see how she feels.”

“We can give her some time to feel more secure here. Anyone holding a needle will probably scare her right now.”

His insight impressed her. “No doubt.”

“Thank you for all of your service.” His tone was humble. “Is there anything I can do for you? We have no medals or money we can give you. But I’m certain we can manage something.”

Her response was immediate. “I want James.”

Gabriel’s gaze flickered behind her, and he smiled. “You already have that, if I’m not mistaken. Ask for something that isn’t redundant.”

She hesitated and stared down at her hands, unable to look at him as she confessed her weakness. “I…I love what I do. I love to help people. But after what happened—” She made a vague gesture.

“You don’t want to be an agent anymore?”

“What? Oh no.” Search and rescue was her life. Even though she didn’t quite feel that same compulsion anymore, that she
owed
something to the world for letting her live, she didn’t want to stop helping people. “It might be nice if I could take a little break from being out on the road. Maybe I could train some new agents.” Actually, now that she had said it, that sounded pretty appealing. She would get to be near James in a place where he felt wholly comfortable, but still contribute.

Gabriel moved quietly for someone who walked on metal. He laid his warm hand on her cheek and coaxed her to look up, up, up into his eyes. They were so understanding, she felt like he was her father, her confessor, her confidant. “It’s a hard job, what we ask of you. It’s also not a job that’s meant to be a lifer. I think that sounds like the perfect thing for you.”

“If and when Jules does go on patrol, I’ll be going with her,” James said in his usual quiet, stubborn way. “Just so you know.”

“Really?” Gabriel asked with another smile. “Out there in the big bad world?”

“It’s not so bad. Not when you’re focused on an endgame. I’ll definitely be going out more now.”

To acclimate himself, Jules knew. So he could overcome his discomfort and come with her, if she wanted to get back out there. A rush of love flooded her.

She was so choked up, she couldn’t speak. James’s arm came around her shoulders, and he squeezed her close. “Thanks, Gabriel.”

The other man was already returning to his desk. He sat down and picked up his pen. “Don’t thank me.”

Jules nodded. “As soon as I get comfortable here, I’m sure I can figure out more ways to make myself useful—”

“James, your woman has a serious hero complex, you know that?”

James’s laugh was real. He grabbed her arm and ignored her disgruntled look. “I absolutely agree.” He lowered his voice as they left the room. “Come on, hero. Let me occupy you in my bed until you’re too tired to worry about saving the world.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

The visit to his bed would have to wait.

First, Jules had to meet his grandfather, who rolled up to Gabriel’s office as they were leaving. “You didn’t come to see me first,” he said gruffly.

The tears in his eyes shook James. The last time he’d seen his grandfather cry was at the death of his daughter-in-law. He dropped to his knees and grabbed the old man, wetness stinging his eyes as well.

Jules and his grandfather sized each other up like the two hardened warriors they were. She had him wrapped around her little finger within a few words.

They had to repeat the bare bones of their adventure to his grandfather, a task made more complicated because it needed to be done while walking to the sickbay. Neither of them wanted to leave Carrie alone longer than necessary.

With a promise to stop by his room as soon as they were done here, they finally managed to get in to see Carrie.

The teen wasn’t in one of the open beds. Hema and Marc stood outside a closed door, conferring quietly with an older blonde woman. “Erin, it’s good to see you.” James shook the woman’s hand.

The former psychiatrist smiled. “I heard you’ve had an adventure.”

“So has Carrie. She was held captive…” James gave them a rather abbreviated rundown of what had been done to Jules and Carrie. They were properly horrified, but a spark lit in Hema’s eyes. Her scientific curiosity had been properly engaged.

The psychiatrist came into the private room with them to break the news to Carrie about the pigment loss in her pupils.

She took it better than expected. James figured he shouldn’t be surprised. She had, after all, been shut up with Erik for a year.

“I’m glad Erik did what he did. No wonder he was acting so strange. I’d rather have messed-up eyes than be dead.” Carrie held up the compact the psychiatrist had produced and studied her new eyes. “They aren’t ugly, are they?”

“Oh, no.” Jules crossed her arms. “They aren’t ugly.”

“But they’re not pretty?”

Jules blinked. “Ah.”

“What Jules meant,” James jumped in, “is that they’re exotic and eye-catching. Especially with your coloring.”

It was sad that he could predict what a teenage girl wanted to hear better than Jules could.

Hema closed the door to Carrie’s room, leaving her with the kind psychiatrist. “Other than exhaustion and dehydration, we aren’t seeing any other side effects from Carrie’s ordeal. It may be,” Hema said to them, “that she manifests these hybrid-like behaviors later, or not at all. Once she’s better, maybe her blood can give us more of a clue as to what’s going on.” Hema opened another door and crooked her finger at Jules. “Come on, now. Your turn for a checkup.”

Jules grimaced. “Fine.”

She entered the room, and James squeezed in behind Hema. He ignored the woman’s scowl. “I need to examine her, James.”

He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. “Go ahead. Not leaving her.”

“It’s fine,” Jules said, amused. With no trace of self-consciousness, she took the hospital gown from Hema, whipped off her top and dropped her pants.

Hema turned around. James did not.

She shot him a sassy wink as she donned the scrap of blue material that supposedly protected her modesty.

James stood there quietly while Hema poked and prodded at Jules, taking her blood pressure, temperature and overall checking her body. Hema questioned Jules about her new abilities thoroughly.

“Do you think I might manifest more abilities later too?” she asked.

Hema yanked out a strand of light hair from Jules’s head and placed it into a test tube. “No idea.”

Jules deflated.

“But,” Hema added as she prodded at the small bump on Jules’s arm, where she’d been injected, “I’m pretty damn smart. If anyone can figure it out, it would be me.”

“Hema was voted most modest in medical school,” he said.

Hema ignored him. “For now, at least, you’re alive, and you have some cool new abilities that will probably come in handy for you. Think of yourself as a superhero.”

Told you so
, he mouthed over the doctor’s head. Jules rolled her eyes.

“Hmm,” Hema said.

That didn’t sound good. He came to attention. “What?”

“There’s something under here.” She prodded harder at the injection site. “You said this is where they shot you up?”

“Yes.” Fear was written on Jules’s face. She craned her neck to look down. “What is it?”

“I can do an X-ray…”

“Just cut it out. If there’s something that shouldn’t be there, cut it out,” Jules demanded.

Hema nodded, mouth in a straight line. “It’s near the surface. You probably thought it was a leftover reaction from the injection. I can get it out with a scalpel.”

Ten minutes later, they stared at the tiny black chip lying on the stainless-steel table. Gabriel and Marc had been called, but James was the one who knew exactly what it was. “Tracking device.”

“Son of a bitch,” Jules whispered. Her face was as white as the gauze Hema was wrapping around her arm. “They tagged me.”

“Looks that way,” Gabriel said mildly, and picked up the device with forceps. “James, is this still functioning?”

Suspecting a transponder, James had run over to grab his frequency detector from the lab. He held it over the device. It let out a loud beep. “Yeah.”

“It wasn’t Erik they tracked.” Jules licked her lips. “It was me.”

James lowered the detector. “It’s possible the guard didn’t know who was carrying the bug.”

“But this means if someone else is following this signal, they could think I’m Erik too. After all, other than the runaway guard, there’s no one left alive who knew I was there.”

“That may be a good thing.”

“What if they come here?”

A savage smile spread across Gabriel’s face. “Good. Let them come here.” He took the device, placed it carefully in a plastic bag and handed it to Marc. “Marc, why don’t you carry that around with you for a few days, but keep it away from the civilians at the barracks or Camp David. Let them think you’re the male they put in a cage.”

Marc’s smile was no less ferocious. “Happily.”

“If anyone’s going to be in danger, it should be me,” Jules said hotly. “I’m the one who brought it here.”

James brought his detector over to Jules and started to scan her carefully. “Hush. No one brought any danger here.”

“This is true,” Gabriel agreed. “If these people are in any way associated with the original group at Cheyenne, they already know we’re here. I would rather they come to our turf.”

“Clean, now,” James said, and finished scanning Jules. “I’ll scan Carrie too, though I don’t think Hema noticed anything on her.”

“What if they’re not the original Cheyenne?” Jules fretted.

“Same rules apply.” Marc lifted the bag. “We lull them into thinking they know exactly where their great experiment is, and if they show up, we grab ’em.”

James grinned at Jules’s confusion over the other men’s excitement. “I know you don’t realize it, sweetheart, but you’re more likely to get a medal than consternation for carrying that tracker here. The bad guys coming to our turf is the best-possible scenario. It’s an understatement to say you’re amongst friends now.”

“He’s right. Well done, Jules.” Gabriel grabbed the frequency detector from James. “Your grandpa gave me a lecture for not getting to see you enough. Go to him, and I’ll handle this.”

That bed, James figured glumly, was never going to happen.

The other men and Hema cleared out, and he was left alone with Jules. She hopped up and started to pull her clothes on. She looked more contemplative than horrified or angry. The bandage on her arm was spotted with blood. Once again, he wished he could wrap her in bubble wrap. But that wouldn’t protect her from the world, and neither would this bunker.