The Jake Helman Files Personal Demons (16 page)

Someone had entered his living room.

His eyes opened wide, his heart threatening to explode through his chest.

Then he heard footsteps on the other side of the door, moving closer.

J
ake reached beneath the pillow and seized the grip of his Glock. Pulling the gun free of its holster, he rolled off the bed and crouched on the floor behind it. He pulled back the Glock’s slide and gripped the weapon in both hands. Across the room, the door creaked open and a shaft of light fell over him, exposing his upper body to the intruder. Squinting at the light, he aimed the Glock at the silhouette in the doorway.

Kira stood there in a sheer nightie cut midway to her thighs. Jake saw the curves of her body through the transparent fabric, even more exquisite than he had imagined. She turned to one side, allowing him to admire her profile, her features inscrutable.

He relaxed his grip on the Glock and released its slide. Rising to his feet, he dangled the gun at his side, allowing Kira to see his body as well. “I could have killed you.”

She moved out of the light as she entered the room, her voice silky. “I doubt it.”

He stood still as she penetrated the darkness. “What do you want?”

Stepping around the bed, she touched a clasp between her breasts and the nightie slipped to the floor. “What does it look like I want?”

She stepped into the light, her body so close to his that he felt heat emanating from it. She had the most incredible body he had ever seen, perfect in every way he could imagine. Her eyes captured a sliver of light and her moist lips parted. He smelled sweet perfume, which mingled with her body’s natural scent, and felt himself hardening. He tried to picture Sheryl, but her face dissipated along with his resolve. An animal longing grew deep inside him, and he knew that he could not stop himself, even if he could have stopped her.

She reached out with one hand, her fingernails raking the flesh from his chest to his abdomen, and his cock stood at attention. She closed her fingers around the barrel of his Glock, then eased it from his hand and tossed it onto a chair. She wrapped her arms around his back and pressed her breasts against his chest, her nipples hard and erect, then pushed her tongue against his. He gathered from her flat stomach that she worked out every day. His erection poked at her mound of fine black hair as she slid her hands down to his waist, seized the band of his briefs, and twisted it in opposing directions until the fabric tore. Before he knew it, she had freed him from the constricting material and squeezed his shaft between her thighs. Looking at the bureau mirror behind her, he saw a dark tattoo of a spider on her back, just below her left shoulder.

Pivoting on one heel, Jake pushed her down onto the bed. He climbed on top of her and spread her knees apart with his own, guiding himself into her slick opening. She wrapped her limbs around him and he felt her abdominal muscles clench. Her inner muscles squeezed him in ways he had never thought possible. He grabbed her hair and stared into her eyes, which taunted him, challenged him. He buried his tongue inside her mouth and drove himself into her with all his strength, channeling the anger and frustration that he had felt over the past few days into a desperate need for physical release. She arched her hips beneath him, encouraging him and fighting him at the same time, writhing in response to his efforts.

“Fuck me!” Kira said through clenched teeth.

I … thought … I … was
…

“Harder!” Her claws raked his back and ass.

Any harder and I’ll have a heart attack!

Still, he found the strength to accommodate her, and soon he felt a torrent of hot fluid gushing around his member as her body quaked beneath his.

“That’s it,” she cried. “That’s
it!”

She whimpered like a wounded animal and he cried out in orgasm, his heart pounding and his eyes rolling up in their sockets. He wilted over her and she pushed him off and stood without saying anything.

He felt drained. “That’s it …”

Kira wiped his sweat from her body as she might have (had she) come into contact with some toxic chemical, then snatched her nightie from the floor and strode from the room, her departure as abrupt as her arrival. Jake heard the front door open and close, and he ran one hand over his sweat-soaked face. In only a few short minutes, Kira had given him the ride of his life. His legs shook as though she had sucked his blood like a vampire, leaving him with just enough hemoglobin to function.

What about Sheryl?

Fuck her
.

The thought startled him and he felt a tide of guilt wash over him as rationality returned to his mind.

I can never do this again
.

But he knew he had an addictive personality and sex with Kira felt like a new drug. He wondered if he had the strength to resist her if she visited him again. Still smelling her fragrance, he went into the bathroom and showered. Returning to the bedroom, he saw something glossy on the floor, near the foot of the bed. Stepping closer, he picked it up: Kira’s security card. She must have dropped it while shedding the nightie.

Then why hadn’t she come back for it?

Perhaps she had tried to do so while he had been in the shower.

He went into the office space and checked the security monitors above his computer. Cutler sat alone in the security bay. The monitors didn’t show the two corridors beside the elevators, but he assumed Kira had gotten into her unit by entering her security code into the keypad of her door scanner. He turned the card over in his hand, considering his options.

Cutler looked up from his console with raised eyebrows.

“I need to check something in the Control Room,” Jake said as he passed the security station. He wore blue jeans and hi-top sneakers, with no shirt beneath his V-neck sweater. His walkie-talkie hung from his belt and he held his security card in one hand. “Stay alert.”

“I will,” Cutler said.

Jake waved his card at the door scanner, entered the utility corridor, and approached the Control Room. He waved his card again and pushed the door open. Monitors flickered in the darkness as he stepped inside and closed the door. He had clearance to be there so he wouldn’t need to justify his presence to Kira if she caught him. He sat at the viewing station below the monitors, his watch ticking off seconds while Cutler patrolled the security bay. Satisfied the guard seemed intent on remaining in his assigned territory, Jake stood and crossed the room. Opening the door, he leaned his head out. The curvature of the corridor made it impossible for him to see Cutler—or for Cutler to see him. He stepped out, closed the door, and crept to the far end of the corridor. Looking over his shoulder one last time, he waved his card at the final scanner, unlocked the conference room door, and slipped inside.

The glow of the city outside outlined the furniture in the dark room. Half of the empty chairs around the conference table faced Jake, and the windows reflected his image over the vista of the nighttime cityscape. He flicked on the overhead lights and his reflection flickered away like a ghost. Across the room, the
RESTRICTED
sign on the Demonstration Room door beckoned to him.

This is insane
, he thought.

But he moved forward anyway, staring at the door, his right hand maneuvering Kira’s security card over his own.

I could be fired for this
.

Was it worth it?

Of course not
. But the cop inside him had to know what Kira, Russel, and the Filipino men were up to. Why all the secrecy? His instincts told him he had stumbled onto something illegal, possibly even something with international repercussions. He waved Kira’s card at the scanner, half-hoping it wouldn’t work.

The door unlocked.

Standing rigid, he took a deep breath. Then he reached out and his fingertips brushed the metal door, which creaked open. Machinery hummed in the darkness, like a swimming pool filter, and escaping air chilled him. Reaching inside and groping along the wall, he located a light switch and slipped inside as they flickered on. The deep room contained no furniture. Twenty feet ahead, in the room’s center, a giant glass globe, ten feet in diameter, sat upon an octagonal metal base. Green in color, it stared at him like an unblinking, cyclopean eye.

He pulled the door behind him, careful to leave it unlatched; he didn’t want to risk locking himself in overnight. He approached the globe, his footsteps slow and his reflection in the curved glass growing larger. The green color did not come from the glass, but from the globe’s contents; the liquid inside resembled murky green water. Why would an island nation need seawater?

He stopped before the globe. Plastic hoses and metal coils ran from it into the metal base, which had drainage holes similar to those he had seen in autopsy tables. The humming sound came from a motor in the base. He saw no safety gloves or oxygen masks lying around, so he felt safe as he reached out and pressed his right palm against the glass. He felt the vibration of the filter through the cool, smooth surface and his body shivered.

A shadow darted through the green liquid and Jake blinked. Two bulbous red eyes and dozens of razor-sharp teeth smashed against the glass where his hand rested. Recoiling with a startled cry, he snatched his hand away, backpedaling until he fell on his ass. Inside the globe, the creature bashed its head against the glass over and over, striking where Jake’s hand had left a condensation print.

What in God’s name is that?

The creature stared at him with anger blazing in its hungry eyes, its head the size of a fist. A wide gash beneath its eyes exposed rows of piranha teeth receding into fleshy darkness. Its body, three inches in diameter and two feet long, writhed like a snake, its scales silvery green. It could have been a mutated eel with a shrunken human head and the mouth of a shark. It gave Jake a hateful look and retreated into the murky green water.

Jake remained sitting on the floor for a moment, unable to budge. Then he managed to rise to his feet but his eyes remained locked on the giant globe. He knew he had just seen a creature that had never existed until the scientists at Tower International had created it, and the presence of the demonstrators downstairs suddenly made total sense to him. Stepping forward, he peered into the globe again. A half dozen of the shadowy things swam within it, the machine in its base simulating the current of a stream or river.

Jake staggered back to the door, too frightened to take his eyes off the globe. He backed into the conference room, closed the Demonstration Room door, then fled into the corridor. His feet pounded the floor as he sprinted through the corridor, the glass door to the security bay coming into view around the curved wall. He palmed the release button, threw the door open, and rushed toward the security station, startling Cutler, who leapt to his feet. Jake skidded to a stop on the marble floor and the guard stared at him with bulging eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

Jake could only imagine how he must have looked: pale as a ghost and shaken to his core. He looked behind him at the empty corridor. “Nothing.” Not caring whether or not his explanation had satisfied the guard, he waved his card at the scanner for the residential corridor and hurried along the curved wall, moving in and out of the light. Praying that Kira would not suddenly emerge from her unit ahead of him, he unlocked his door, stumbled inside, and slammed the door, locking it behind him. He rushed across the room to the windows, seized his pack of Marlboros, and lit a cigarette with trembling fingers. He took a deep drag, exhaling as he gazed at his troubled reflection in the window.

What am I going to do?

Nothing. Keep your mouth shut
.

For all he cared, the creatures in the globe didn’t exist. He took another drag on the cigarette, searing his lungs. His adrenaline surging, he knew he would be unable to sleep. He finished the cigarette in silence and carried the pack into the bedroom with him.

Tower International?

That’s where they make the monsters
.

J
ake chain-smoked through the night, emptying the pack. Streaks of orange split the sky when he finally succumbed to exhaustion, and he snapped awake when the alarm went off thirty minutes later. His eyeballs throbbed, his scalp felt prickly, and he wished he had forced himself to stay awake. Sitting up, he gazed out the window, midtown Manhattan coming into focus. He craved another cigarette even though his throat felt raw. After a shower and breakfast, he put on his black suit and took his trench coat from the closet.

Graham had returned to his post in the security bay. “Good morning. Sleep all right last night?”

“Not exactly.” Glancing at Kira’s office doors, Jake handed his walkie-talkie to Graham. “Ms. Thorn around?”

Graham set the walkie-talkie into a charger and offered Jake a fresh one. “She’s always in her office by seven-thirty.”

Jake waved off the walkie-talkie. “I’m stepping out for a few. I’ll take that when I get back.”

“No sweat.”