Turning Payne (8 page)

Turner's scent lingered on the blankets that were tucked around Riley's shoulders. She hadn't meant to fall asleep, but when she woke, the setting sun cast an orange glow in the room.

She inhaled and closed her eyes, but when she did, her mind was flooded with images of Turner, naked, on top of her…inside her. Her reaction to him hadn't just been shocking, it been down right frightening. Never in her life had she experienced such intense physical pleasure. The memory alone sent a warm ripple of desire between her legs. 

Her stomach tightened and she shook her head against the pillow, sobering as she remembered what had brought her to Turner's bed in the first place. Kiera, Marcus—her father. Lies and deception. There was still so much she didn't understand.

She went still when the door opened, and she swore she could feel the caress of Turner's gaze as he crossed the room. The bed creaked as he sat down beside her.

"I made you a turkey sandwich." Innocent words, but his voice, dark and rough, sent a shiver down her spine.

She took a steadying breath and rolled over. Her body trembled as it brushed against his leg through the thin sheets. She sat up and wrapped the blanket tight around her, uncomfortably aware that she was currently naked, while he was fully dressed in jeans and a black t-shirt.

Turner's lips quirked into a smile of pure, male appreciation. She blushed and looked away. The man had an uncanny effect on her, and it was more than a little bit unnerving.

"You need to eat," he said, handing her the plate.

She glanced at the dark bread. "Pumpernickel?"

He shrugged. "It was mom's favorite."

She took a small bite and smiled. "It's good."

He reached out as if to touch her cheek, then pulled back. "Chase called. He was able to track Marcus down. He's holed up in an apartment not far from here.  I'm going there now."

She looked up from her sandwich. "Alone?"

"Chase is meeting me."

"I'm going with you." She set the plate on the side table.

He stiffened, his gaze narrowing. "I don't know who Marcus is working with, or what he has up his sleeve. You'll be safe here, but if you want I can drop you off at Chase's house and you can stay with Lora."

"No." She shook her head and pushed the blankets aside. "I'm part of this."

"You are." He growled, blocking her when she tried to get off the bed. "But I'm not putting you in danger. The man stuck a fucking needle in your neck with the intention of turning you."

She pressed against his chest, and his hand snaked up her back, gripping the hair at the nape of her neck. He pulled her towards him, and she felt her muscles go lax, her resolve weaken. His gaze lingered on her neck and she shuddered at the strange desire she had for him to bite her. To have him sink his teeth into her as she held him tight, while he rode her until she screamed his name in ecstasy. She licked her lips as a heavy punch of need made her thighs clench, and liquid warmth spilled from her sensitive folds.

God, what he did to her.

A knowing smile played across his lips, making her cheeks burn.

She shook her head slowly and closed her eyes. "I need to talk to Marcus, to look in his eyes when—" Her voice hitched. "When he admits why he did it."

Turner leaned in and placed his forehead against hers, exhaling slowly. She could hear the faint rumble in his throat.

"Please."

He pulled back and studied her. "You need to do what I say."

"I will." She smiled, knowing she'd won.

He shot her a dark, threatening look. "I mean it, Riley. If I say stay, you stay. Run, you run. Understand?"

"Come, I come," she teased, biting her lip when he groaned, deep and throaty.

"Later," he promised, before slipping out the door.

The promise of later sent a fresh wave of arousal crashing through her system, and from somewhere down the hall she swore she heard Turner chuckle.

* * *

Turner shut the car door and walked around the hood to join Riley. Chase and Lora waited for them outside the run-down apartment complex. A siren screamed a few streets over. The full moon illuminated the dark parking lot enough that Turner could make out the deep frown on his brother's face.

Chase raised his eyebrow at Turner as he approached and nodded to Riley who spoke with Lora. "Trying to see how many rules you can break in one week?"

"She'll be fine." He took the device Chase handed him and scanned the blueprints of the building. "He's in apartment 890?"

Chase nodded, then glanced at Riley. "It's dangerous to bring her here."

Turner mirrored his brother's expression and tilted his chin to Lora. "Then why is she here?"

As if overhearing him, Lora shot him a dirty look, then turned back to Riley. Yeah, it was an asshole comment, and he knew it.

Chase scratched his jaw. "Lora is a Therian agent and a metamorph. She can handle herself."

"Like I said. Riley will be fine." Turner handed the device back and glanced up at the crumbling structure. "I'll make sure of it."

"Fuck." Chase's nostrils flared, and a snarl lifted the edge of his top lip.

"What?"

"You slept with her."

Turner felt the muscles at his jaw flex. "None of your damn business. Can we get this shit started?"

Chase groaned and swiped his hands over his face. "You're walking a dangerous road. One of these days I'm not going to be here to save your sorry ass."

Turner pointed his finger against his brother's chest and hissed, "I've never asked for saving."

The growl that vibrated from Chase's chest echoed into the night sky. "Right. So I'm supposed to just sit by and watch you self-implode. For once in your fucking life, stop being a self-absorbed asshole and realize your screw-ups affect the people around you."

Turner fisted his hands at his side. The mood he was in now, he was more than happy to hit somebody or something. He didn't want to admit the truth of his brother's words, but Chase was right—he was a fuck up. Once he'd done what he set out to do, he'd do everyone a favor and get the hell out of this godforsaken town. There were places a metamorph could hide, places where not even the Therian agency could find him.

"Everything okay over here?" Lora asked, placing her hand on Chase's arm, her gaze darting between them.

"Yeah, we're fine," Chase grumbled.

Riley's eyes were wide with concern, and he knew the look he gave her back was less than reassuring.

Raking his fingers through his hair, Turner clenched his jaw and fought to maintain control of his lion. The animal was already on edge, and Chase's accusations only edged the beast closer to the surface.

"Lora, stay with Riley," Turner ordered, before popping the trunk and grabbing two tasers from their case. He handed one to Chase. "Once the place is secure, we'll call you up."

He ignored the stubborn look Lora gave him and turned to Riley. She looked at the gun he held, eyes rounding.

"It's a taser. We won't hurt him unless we have to."

She nodded and blinked. "Be careful."

His throat tightened at the genuine concern in her voice. The way she looked at him, as if he wasn't the fuck-up everyone thought he was, made him want to wrap her in his arms and never let her go. She was awakening a part of him he had no idea how to force back.

Chase coughed behind him. "You ready?"

"Yeah." He started to turn, then thought
fuck it
. He was moving before he could stop himself. In a swift motion, he pulled Riley towards him. His lips crashed against hers, tongue swiping over her lips, flickering past them to taste her.

Blood thundered through his veins, the fiery need to possess her, to claim her spread through his body, burning away any doubts that she had to be his.

He released her, pressed one final abrupt kiss on her lips, and turned away.

"Now I'm ready." He stalked across the parking lot, ignoring the stunned looks on Chase and Lora's faces.

The first thing Turner noticed as he entered Marcus' small, rundown apartment, was the stale smell of fear.

"Hands where we can see them," Chase ordered.

Marcus barely flinched, but continued to tap persistently at the keyboard, shoulders hunched over his laptop. His hair stood on end, and there were dark sweat stains under his arms and down his back.

Turner kept his weapon drawn and pointed at the man's head as he slowly rounded on him to get a clearer view of his face.

"It's over," Marcus mumbled, his skin pale, eyes glossed over.

"It
is
over. Now, put your hands up," Turner warned.

Chase moved through the apartment, checking each room. "All clear."

Marcus continued to type as some sort of code scanned down the screen. He pressed one final button and the screen went black. He sat back, hands above his head and waited silently for Chase to cuff him. His non-blinking gaze flicked to Turner.

"We have a few questions," Chase said.

Marcus' eyes moved slowly to Chase, and he chuckled, the sound gritty. "With all the technology the Therian agency has, you still don't have a clue, do you?"

"We know more than you think." Turner's fingers flexed. "For starters, I know that Boyd is alive, and that you're working with him."

"Working with him?" Marcus sneered, then shook his head. "Your resentment has blinded you."

"You know nothing about me."

"No?" He snorted through his nose. "It doesn't matter what you believe. You're all pawns in her game."

"Her?"

"You really are ignorant aren't you?" Marcus spit on the floor. "I could have saved her, saved them all, if you hadn't shown up. Now they're all going to die, and it's all your fault."

Chase crossed his arms over his chest and frowned. "You wanted to save them?"

"Bullshit," Turner spat. "You stuck a fucking needle in Riley's neck. Were you trying to infect her like you did Kiera?"

Marcus shook his head. "I didn't want to hurt her, but—"

"But, what?" Turner gripped the man by the throat, his nails elongating and piercing the flesh.

"Turner," Chase warned.

Turner released him and took a step back, shaking off the need to beat the shit out of the man.

Marcus coughed. "You think your threats scare me? I'm already a walking dead man. He knows what I've done, when he finds me…" He swallowed hard and closed his eyes. "I was just trying to save her."

"You want to help Kiera?" Chase demanded. "Then tell us what you know."

Marcus looked past them both, his eyes vacant, distant. "The first trials. My sister, Ana, she'd tested positive for the recessive gene. She volunteered. I tried to stop her, but…"

"She volunteered to be infected?"

Marcus nodded. "She believed in the program. They all did. They thought the drug would turn them, make them metamorphs. But…" His voice cracked. "Well, you've seen what it does. It was worse in the earlier trials, most didn't make it. Ana was one of the few that survived."

"So why infect others?" Chase asked. "Revenge?"

"No. I didn't want to hurt Kiera, I just thought…I thought that if his daughter was infected, that he would work harder at finding a cure."

Chase's mouth dropped open. "Are you saying Boyd's still alive?"

Marcus gave a noncommittal shrug, but his omission had been clear. Chase looked at Turner, his expression unreadable, then blew out a long breath.

"Do you know where he is?" Turner asked.

Marcus snorted. "Even if I did, you'll never find him. She's got eyes everywhere."

"She?" It was the second time he'd mentioned the unknown woman.

Marcus' lips twisted up in a mocking smile. "You don't think Boyd has been working alone all these years? Come on, you're smarter than that. Put the pieces together." He laughed, his eyes raking over Turner in scorn. "Maybe you're not as smart as she thinks you are?"

Turner's gut twisted.

"Circe—" The name passed Marcus' lips the same moment a bullet pierced and shattered the living room window, embedding the man's skull.

"Get down," Chase bellowed, over the roar in Turner's ears.

A trickle of blood ran down the corner of Marcus' lips, his lifeless body slumped forward.

Two more shots, this time aimed at the computer, sending bits of plastic and metal flying.

Chase crouched against the wall and punched in numbers on his cell. "Lora, get Riley out of here. We'll meet you back at home."

Turner shook his head and hissed, "If Marcus was right and Boyd knows where Kiera is, he may go there."

Chase cursed and shot him a look that reflected how fucked up the whole situation was. 

Turner tilted his head back against the wall. "Lora has the code for my apartment. It's secure."

His chest tightened, knowing what Riley would find there, but the only alternative was taking her to the agency, and that was out of the question.

Chase nodded and relayed the information to Lora.

The shots had stopped, but the smell of singed metal and blood made Turner's head spin. He wanted nothing more than to go after Riley, make sure she was safe, and by the look on his brother's face, he knew he felt the same way about his own mate.

"We need to salvage what we can," Chase said, peeking over his shoulder into the room where Marcus' body was, then looked back at him. "I have to call this in."

Turner nodded in resignation. There was no hiding this from the Agency now. "Make the call."

He stood, ran his hands through his hair, and let his gaze rest on the lifeless body. He'd known. Marcus had known they'd come after him. Why hadn't he run? What had been on the computer that he was so desperately trying to hide?

Circe, Circe, Circe. The damn name rung in his ears like a broken record. Turner's teeth clenched to the point where he was surprised they didn't shatter.

If Circe wasn't Boyd, then who was he?