Free Memory Zero by Keri Arthur Page A

control. Trusting no one was a motto she’d lived with for half her life—or at least, the half she could remember. Only Jack had broken through the barriers she’d raised—and, living or dead, Jack had now betrayed her.
    “You okay?”
    His soft question ran through the mist encasing her mind. Energy rose from somewhere, and she opened her eyes. He’d seated himself in the driver’s seat and turned on the engine. She’d heard neither event.
    “I’m tired, that’s all. Just go.”
    A slight hint of concern cut through the intensity of his gaze. He nodded and drove off. As if from a great distance, she watched the streets flit by. Within seconds, it seemed, they’d stopped again.
    He opened her door, then bent down and unclipped her seat belt. “I’m calling a doctor about those wounds on your feet.”
    She rubbed her head wearily. God, even her fingers hurt. “Just get me upstairs and let me rest. I’ll be fine.”
    “Like hell you will.” His mutter ran past her ear as he slipped his arms round her body.
    She didn’t protest as he lifted her out of the car. Didn’t have the energy. She just wanted to rest, let it all slide away. But not until she was safe. Not until she was alone.
    She rested her head against his shoulder as he walked the steps to the hotel lobby. The warmth of his bodyseeped across her skin, chasing the icy chills from hers. He smelled good, too, his scent a pleasant mix of sage and exotic spices. But a nice smell and a warm, taut body didn’t mean he was trustworthy. Gabriel Stern had an agenda, and it wasn’t the one he had told her about. Until she knew what his motives were, she had to be extremely cautious around the man. No matter how pleasant some parts of her might find him.
    A thin man, his expression slightly alarmed, met them in the lobby and escorted them to the elevator. The doors swished closed, then they were heading up and up. The elevator finally came to a stop and she closed her eyes, fighting another bout of nausea. Then she was being lowered, and Gabriel’s warmth left her. She forced her eyes open and looked up.
    The edge of concern was stronger in his gaze. “Your two bags are at the end of the bed. I’ll be in the next room, making a few calls. Do you need anything?”
    “Just rest.”
    He frowned slightly, then nodded and walked from the room, closing the door behind him. She forced herself upright, reaching for the strap of her handbag and dragging it toward her.
    The wristcom was still there. She held it up to the light, looking for any sign of damage. Moisture glistened on the metal surface, but these things had been designed to function underwater, so a bit of liquid wouldn’t have harmed it. There was no other sign of damage, which was a relief. If she were alone, she would have started it up, but with Gabriel in the next room, she didn’t dare take the chance. If he saw it, he’d confiscate it—of that she had no doubt. And probably charge her for theft in the process. The SIU boys were sticklers when it came to the rules, no doubtdue to the fact that Hanrahan had been known to demote personnel who didn’t follow the letter of the law. Hell, according to rumors, he’d sacked people for not dotting their “i”s correctly in reports.
    As she put it back, an odd clinking sound caught her attention. Opening the bag wider, she saw several large shards of china.
    She reached in and pulled one out and pain welled up—pain greater than anything she’d ever felt before. She stared at the broken piece of the mug, her gaze suddenly blurred by tears. Everything she’d ever valued was gone. The bomb had destroyed the few precious mementos she’d had of her past, and now it had taken this—the very first Christmas present she’d ever remembered getting.
    She flopped back on the bed and rolled to one side, raising her knees and hugging them close as she finally let go. Tears fell like hot rain down her cheeks to the sheets, slowly spreading out in an