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“That you can step into, too,” she told him. “The gap would be too large for one person to fill.”
His movements were languorous as he climbed up off the sofa and closed the distance between them, coming to a halt in front of her.
“How do you propose we find this missing scientist? And how can you be certain she isn’t already dead?”
“Miriam is not the only one with sources.”
His eyes were sharper than usual. “You have a mole in the smuggler’s organization. Or”—he laughed—“her mole is your mole, too. Don’t tell me you’re using this famous Broker, too.”
Sandrine smiled at him, giving nothing away. Serge considered her for several long minutes before nodding to himself. Sandrine felt her heart jump and her mouth water at being one step closer to her goal. One step closer to ridding the world of Miriam Shepherd.
“I always did fancy expanding into the Eastern Territory.” Serge rubbed his jaw as his eyes followed the line of her leg from ankle to thigh. “I’ve often felt that Ju-Long has grown tired of the region. He doesn’t manage it with the same enthusiasm he showed in his youth.”
“That would leave me with the Northern Territory,” Sandrine wanted to clarify their agreement. There could be no haggling later.
“I thought that was what you wanted, darling.”
She smiled at him. It was no secret the Northern Territory was the most powerful.
“Well, it seems we have an agreement,” Serge said. “How do you propose we seal this deal?”
Sandrine uncrossed her legs and widened her knees. Her eyes on Serge, she grasped the fabric of her dress and inched it upward until she was exposed for his pleasure.
His cheeks flushed and his eyes darkened. “Ms. Cherbourg, I like how you do business.” He fell to his knees in front of her. “You have yourself a partner.”
Chapter Twenty-One
“She isn’t a spy.”
Friday barely stopped herself from sagging with relief at Striker’s confident declaration. In the short time she’d known him, his opinion of her had come to matter more than almost anything else.
“Then explain her research specialty.” Mace glared at her. “And the fact she didn’t faint when you told her about our genetics. Or when you revealed your diamondback. Most people would have passed out at the sight. Not Friday—she took the whole thing in her stride. Almost as though she already knew about it. About us.”
“She didn’t know about us.” Striker’s certainty made her eyes well up with tears. The reaction shocked her. She never cried. There wasn’t any point. Tears achieved nothing. “You didn’t see her in Scorpion Canyon. You didn’t see how freaked out and confused she was when the scorpions kept their distance.”
“That doesn’t mean she didn’t know we were genetically different. All that means is she didn’t know about our effect on the scorpions in the canyon.”
“What about her saving me from the mist? Explain that?” He shook his head as he pulled her closer. “She thought she was going to die. There’s no way she could have known we’d save her in time. We almost didn’t.”
Mace stood suddenly, looming over them.
Friday couldn’t help but shrink back, but she cleared her throat and faced her accuser. “I didn’t want to tell you about my area of expertise because I knew how it would come across.”
He snorted his disbelief. And just like that, something snapped inside of her, filling her with anger instead of anxiety. She jumped to her feet and glared up at the overgrown ape.
“You might think you understand the world you woke up in, but you don’t.” And she was going to give him an education he’d never forget. “You’ve done a great job adapting these past few years, but you still think like people from the last century. When you went to sleep, genetics and biotech were rare research areas. That isn’t the case now. It’s one of the most common scientific disciplines. And a big part of that specialization is research into genetic mutation caused by chemical bleed.
“There are literally thousands of studies being done on the subject at any given time. Thousands. You think we wouldn’t study it? Half of the world’s population is walking around with implanted technology. The companies who make the implants have to know how they will affect the users. They use the research to develop solutions for genetic fallout. With each new generation of implant technology, they get closer to combating the bleed effect. This is common practice. Ask anyone. Call up your Doc person and get him to research the subject. Let him tell you how common my research area is.”
“If it isn’t a big deal, why not come clean straightaway?” He took a threatening step toward her, and suddenly Striker was at her side. Protecting her. The thought was dizzying. People didn’t protect her, they sacrificed her.
“Because, you big oaf, it took me about ten seconds to figure out you would jump to the wrong conclusion once you knew. I didn’t lie. I’ve never lied. I worked as a drone in a low-level lab. I worked on the basic biotech function of communication implants. That’s it. I was so far down the chain it’s laughable. But my academic study was in a different area. And if I could work in that area, I would. That’s why I was excited to study you lot. Excited about everyone but you. You need a different sort of study. Maybe you should contact a researcher who specializes in personality disorders and mental instability.”
Striker barked out a laugh, pulling their attention to him. He stood beside them, arms folded, perfectly relaxed and obviously entertained. “You two about done bickering?” he said.
It took a second for Friday to realize she’d been facing off with an angry warrior who was double her size. Probably not the wisest thing she’d ever done, but she wasn’t going to let that stop her now.
“Not yet,” she told Striker before glaring back up at Mace. “As for my reaction to the news of your abilities. That’s just how I react. If you were looking for hysterics, you picked the wrong woman. I’ve been shocked and stunned more times in my life than I care to remember. If I’d fallen apart every single time, I’d have achieved nothing. I’d still be stuck in a group home in Houston, praying I’d die of neglect before I had to prostitute myself to survive.
