Project Terminal: Legacy (4 page)

Wind whipped around her as they sped down the interstate. Motorcycles had always frightened her, when they’d pass cars or semis her heart rate skyrocketed. She hadn’t wanted to die last night and sure as hell didn’t want to become roadkill today.

At mid-afternoon Damian pulled into a gas station somewhere in Podunk, Louisiana. He had to help her off the Harley after she discovered she’d taken root to the saddle.

“I’ll fuel up then go inside and get us some food,” he said, holding her by the forearms while she tested her legs for stability.

“I’m going to the restroom.” Her stomach woozy, she feared she may throw up. And if she threw up she’d do a face plant on the pavement.

“Do you need help?”

“We had this conversation last night. I can go to the bathroom by myself.” She waved off his hand.

He lifted his eyebrows. “Last night you tried to run away.”

“Well, I can promise you I’m in no shape to run. I need to get in touch with my family too.”

He frowned. “We’ll have to wait on that.”

Too weak to argue, she only snorted. Customers gave her curious looks when she walked through the sliding glass doors of the convenience store. She ignored them, shuffling toward the ladies’ room at a turtle pace. Maybe she had turned zombie, all she needed were the moans, groans, and outstretched arms. She considered doing just that then giggled, drawing even more stares.

“I had a zombie virus, but I’m good now,” she explained to a passing woman who made no effort to hide her ogling. The woman harrumphed and stomped away. “Yokel,” Laura muttered.

After using the facilities, she dared a peek in the mirror over the restroom’s sinks. Death stared back. Her cheeks held no color and her lips had taken on a bluish hue. Dark circles discolored the skin beneath her red streaked eyes. She groaned, splashing cold water over her face. God, she needed a shower—an hour long shower with lots and lots of soap and a good loofah scrub.

A toilet in one of the stalls flushed. A woman came out, taking the next sink over. Big brown eyes regarded her in the mirror. Laura did her best to appear nonchalant as she grabbed several paper towels and held them beneath the faucet. After pumping soap from the dispenser on the wet towels, she washed her arms. The best she’d get for a while.

“Oh, honey child, I know where you’re comin’ from,” the woman said.

Laura met the woman’s pitying gaze while swiping a towel beneath her armpits.
You’ve been bit by a rabid zombie too?
Laura bit her tongue. She gave a quick shrug, continuing her bath.

“I was hooked on the junk for years. Meth, coke, weed, whatever I could get my hands on.” The woman reached out, patting her arm before rummaging inside an oversized designer purse. She pulled out a business card. “Here is the number of the rehab place I went to. Real classy, the folks are super nice.” She pressed the card in Laura’s hand and with a final pat on the shoulder left her alone in the bathroom.

A giggle bubbled up Laura’s throat. Drugs would be a blessing considering what she’d gotten into. She eyed the window…solid, frosted glass and much too small for escape. With her health returning she saw no reason to stay with Damian, surely she could lose him in the convenience store. Maybe hitch a ride back to Mississippi with one of the truckers.

But they had a tie binding them together, keeping her from doing just that. Perhaps she’d lost her fight. Or maybe couldn’t deal with the idea of making her way back home and facing the questions from her family and friends. What could she say that wouldn’t land her in the psych ward? Maybe she even half-feared she’d return to the diner and find another zombie waiting to avenge its friend’s death.

And maybe she needed to know what the hell was going on.

She gripped the edge of the sink, the room spinning, and she closed her eyes against the vertigo. The room tilted, and her knees buckled. Before she could hit the floor hands grabbed her, strong arms pulling her upright before fitting her snuggly against the solid barrier behind her.

“Damian, you can’t be in here. This is the ladies’ room.”

He chuckled in her ear, stirring the hair at her temple. “What? Is the ninety pound teenage boy at the counter going to kick me out?”

She wanted to pull away, but it felt good to lean against him. His hand splayed over her belly, and she sank into his strength. He nuzzled her ear. She gave a long, shuddering sigh, and despite her weakened state, awareness stirred in her veins. The door to the restroom popped open and she met the startled gaze of a middle-aged woman. Her eyes bugged from her head, and she let the door swing closed.

“Let’s go, I’ve got what we need,” he said, easing her away. Keeping an arm around her shoulders, he pulled her to his side. “We’ve got a hard ride ahead of us.”

“Where are we going?”

“West. There’s a man I need to see.”

The door burst open again and the ninety pound teenager scowled at the two of them. “You can’t be in here,” he said to Damian, a mouth full of shiny silver braces slurring his speech.

Damian held up his hands in surrender. “We’re leaving, don’t hurt us.”

Laura stifled laughter as he sidled past the boy in mock fear.

She squinted against the glare of the sun when they walked outside, a question already formed on her tongue. “Why do you need me? People are relying on my restaurant and no one’s there to open it today. Not to mention what my family will be thinking.”

He stuffed the contents of the plastic bag of goods he’d just bought inside his saddlebags.

“You don’t understand, Laura. You survived. Nobody survives the virus. You’re a key to a cure, you can stop it.” He turned and faced her, bringing fingertips beneath her chin to tilt her face up. His huge form blocked the sunlight, casting her in shadow.

“I’m no hero, Damian, and I don’t want to be.”

He searched her eyes. “Please, think of the lives you’ll be saving. You saw the thing in the alleyway, you know what’s out there. You can’t turn your back on it. What if it’d been someone in your family? Chances are they wouldn’t have made it through.”

Affectively filled to the brim with guilt, she dropped her gaze to the ground. He stroked a lock of hair behind her ear.

“Tell me where we’re going then,” she said at last.

“I know a man who was part of the early experiments. He can help us, I think.” He pushed a bottle of sports drink in her hand with a breakfast bar.

She crinkled her nose at the offering.

“Just eat it and don’t argue. You can have something more substantial later when your stomach can handle it.” He took a swig of water from a bottle, cramming the last of a sandwich he must’ve started earlier in his mouth.

“I don’t care for blueberries. This is a blueberry.” She held up the breakfast bar. His thick brows knit for a moment before a grin split his face.

“I bought strawberry.” He nodded toward one of the saddlebags. She dug for the box. He constantly surveyed their surroundings while she ate—his gaze as intense as a hawk’s. He missed nothing, and that intensity sent a little shiver through her.

Chapter 5

Laura crawled up behind him on the Harley.
Dr. Doug Martin
, the name repeated in Damian’s head as he cut in traffic. He’d been part of Project Terminal in the early days, and one of the scientists involved in his transformation. Doug had been booted from the program, rumors spreading he’d objected to some of the experiments being carried out.

Maybe a dead end to try, but worth a shot.

Damian was forced to stop at a cheap roadside motel in Louisiana by late afternoon. His passenger needed rest, and so did he. He stopped at a restaurant next door first, letting Laura stretch her legs while he ordered soup for her and a burger for him.

The room he’d paid for smelled of mold, but it had a bed. He hadn’t slept in a real bed for weeks. Laura eyed the single, but hell if he’d be a gentleman and take the floor.

“Oh, thank God.” Laura flopped face first onto the mattress. The springs squeaked beneath her weight. “I need a shower,” she said, her voice muffled by the comforter.

“I’ll bring in my bags while you go first. I should have a clean shirt if you want it.”

“Thanks,” came the smothered reply.

When he returned, the sound of running water in the next room filled his ears. The thought of Laura naked beneath the spray of the shower sent his blood rushing south. He adjusted the sudden tightness behind his fly, digging out a t-shirt.

“Laura,” he called through the door. “I’m laying a shirt on the sink for you.”

“Um, okay,” she said back. He cracked the door open to place the shirt on the sink. He caught sight of Laura, the opaque shower curtain giving a peepshow. He stood transfixed, the curve of breast and ass easily noticeable while she ran water over her long hair, humming a tune as she did so.

He groaned, stepping back and closing the door quickly before he could do something irrational like jump in with her. He should never have kissed her, taking advantage of a victim because of long, self-imposed abstinence wasn’t acceptable. She was the key to everything, and hell if he’d screw it up.

He grabbed the greasy, cold cheeseburger out of the take-out bag, devouring it in an attempt at distraction. He killed the taste with a peppermint that had come with dinner. The shower stopped. He stared at the bathroom door, his heart kicking up in response. The door opened and Laura exited, wet hair hanging over one shoulder, his t-shirt swallowing her small form.

It took only seconds for him to be rock hard. She patted a towel over her hair, oblivious to the discomfort she caused him. Solid resolve withered, the demands of his body growing louder.

“There’s soup in here for you,” he stuttered. “I’ll jump in the shower. We’ll have an early start in the morning.”

“Okay, thank you for the soup.” She gave him a wide berth as he walked toward the bathroom. “Oh, and Damian.”

He paused, daring a glance over his shoulder.

“Thank you for saving me.”

* * * *

Damian stared at her, his gaze unreadable. Awareness shot through her like snake venom. She wanted him, wanted a continuation of the kiss he’d teased her with. Regardless the insanity behind her desire, it burned within her, hot as the fever she’d suffered. She steeled her mind against him. Most likely he had a string of one-night stands across the country, and what sane woman wanted to be part of that?

He looked as if he could swallow her whole. She took a step back. He growled—a nearly feral sound. In two strides he towered over her.

“You’re such a temptation, damn it,” he said through clenched teeth. He reached for her, his hand closing over her upper arm. “Tell me to stop and I will.”

She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. His arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her against his body, the other hand came to her cheek. He stared hard in her eyes.

“Do you want this, Laura?” he demanded.

Laura licked her lips, her throat dry, his gaze scorching through her body to her soul. “Yes, Damian, I do.”

The traitorous whisper passed her lips before she could stop it. His lips crashed over hers, sucking the wind from her lungs. She met him eagerly, molding to him perfectly. He tasted of peppermint and she sucked the flavor off his tongue.

“You’re about to get wet again,” he said against her mouth before he moved down, nipping a trail to her neck. He pushed her backward until they were in the bathroom, then pulled away long enough to turn the shower on. He found the hem of the t-shirt, and in a quick movement it was over her head and gone. Her underthings had been rinsed out and were draped over the back of the toilet, so she stood before him naked.

In deft movements, he discarded his clothing, and her breath caught at the sight of his form. Beautiful, perfectly chiseled, she studied where muscle and sinew met bone. Too perfect, and driving home the idea he’d had genetic alterations.

“Last chance to back out,” Damian warned.

Her gaze locked on his engorged cock. In answer she reached for it, wrapping her fingers around him, stroking down his length. He muttered unintelligibly, tugging her with him beneath the shower. The hot spray bit her skin while his lips found hers once more. His tongue stroked between her teeth, and he cupped her breasts in his huge hands, thumbs flicking over her nipples until they budded. He moved down, sucking one inside his mouth, kneading the other, working her into a frenzy. She reached for him again, stroking his shaft, loving the sense of power as he shuddered. Unable to resist, she knelt, taking him between her lips, lapping the salty precum from his glans. His groan echoed in the tiny bathroom as she took him deeper, sucking hard until he bucked into her.

“You’re bad,” he hissed through clamped teeth, grabbing her head.

She slapped his ass cheek, the loud
smack
making him flinch, and he pushed away, hauling her to her feet. In an acrobatic movement he’d switched places, balancing her thighs on his shoulders, bracing her upper body against the shower wall, burying his face in her pussy. His lips and tongue worked over her clit, sending shockwaves through every nerve ending. She grasped the short strands of his hair, praying the incredible sensations pooling deep inside her core wouldn’t shatter her, riding higher and higher until she could only sob his name.

His strong fingers dug into her flesh, keeping her from falling while she rubbed against his face, flooding waves sweeping through her.

They crested, breaking her into a million pieces. “Damian!”

They were enveloped in steam as he grasped her buttocks. She wrapped her legs around his hips when he wedged her against the shower wall.

“We should use something,” she mumbled, grabbing for common sense, delirious from her orgasm. “I’m not on the pill, and well…” She lost the train of thought when he lapped water from the side of her neck.

“I’m clean.” His voice sounded ragged and overused. “It’s a necessity to be part of the program, and I’m not susceptible to most diseases now.” He groaned when she rubbed her slit against his ridged cock. “And I’ve been sterilized, another requirement.”