Free a Touch of Intrigue by L. j. Charles Page B

I’d been thinking, because he nodded. Situation diffused. I shifted my focus back to Fred. “Use your words, Fred. Surely you have some that aren’t lies.”
    He shoved his hands in his pockets, took them out and shook them. “You’ll come to work for me. You’ll be assigned to our Amazon site, guarded, while you work on perfecting Xola’s formula. When you hand it over, and the efficacy of it tests out, I’ll, ah, release my control over you.” He was lying. I spotted the movement of his thumb over his finger.
    I weighed my options: live with mind-numbing pain or step into my mother’s shoes. The shoes were a lousy fit. “I’m not a scientist, and I have no idea what any of the components of that formula are. So I have to ask, why me?”
    He shuffled his feet. “Genetic link. You’re the only living person with any connection to that formula.”
    I counted to twenty-three before Fred continued. “Other than Caitlin Connor, of course.”
    My heart plummeted. Damn, they knew about Cait being my cousin, and probably about Fion Connor and Eamon Grady ingesting the formula in a twisted attempt to make a baby with…who knew what qualities and abilities? Cait would be struggling with those the rest of her life. My old fears knotted in my stomach, and I started to question my right to have children. I’d come to peace with it. Sort of. But reality continued to eat at me.
    Pierce must have sensed my distress, because he pressed his hand against my lower back in silent support. I tipped my head back, and looked deep into his eyes. “Me, not Cait.” It was a simple decision.
    Or maybe not so simple for Tynan. “Neither.” His tone didn’t allow for wiggle room.
    Fred sneered, arrogant as hell.
    “I want time with no monitoring or interference from you. If I can create the formula here and turn it over before the end of two weeks, you’ll disappear from my life and never, ever, go anywhere near Cait.”
    Pierce stiffened.
    Fred shook his head. “No deal. You’d be getting two weeks, and there’s nothing in it for me but a delay in the inevitable.”
    Think, Everly. Think. Blood pounded in my veins. “The inevitable?” I asked, buying time.
    “I ship both you and Ms. Connor to the Amazon under armed guard until you hand over every note you make on every test you run, explicit instructions for reproducing the formula, and proof that it works.”
    I froze. “You’re going to test it on a living subject?”
    Fred shrugged. Too much movement for the weight of his bones. He’d probably been broad-shouldered when he handled my mother. “The price of war. We’ll pick a death row inmate if it eases your conscience.”
    Bile rose in my throat. I swallowed. “That scenario favors only you. Offer me a compromise.”
    Tynan’s fingers dug into my back.
    Fred rolled his eyes up, considered the clear, blue sky. “Two weeks, but we monitor this property. Cameras, flybys, and I’ll do unscheduled drop in visits.”
    It was better than I’d hoped for.
    Pierce flattened his hand, and gave me the faintest of nods. “Two weeks. Your conditions. Now, get off my land.”
    He pulled an electronic device of some sort from his pocket and pushed a button on it. “Your wish is my command,” he said, bending into an elaborate bow. He shoved a business card into my hand. “Call me if you change your mind. I have the pull to get you out of tight spots just like Tap does.”
    “What tight spots?”
    Fred smiled, sly. “Heard The Yard wanted to charge you with trespassing on Fion Connor’s estate.”
    I waved my hand at his words. “I had permission from a resident. Cait not only provided me with a map of the interior, but she also gave me the alarm code. That’s not trespassing, Fred.”
    “Maybe not. Maybe so. Depends on the politics.”
    A helicopter came into view, hovered, and then landed on the roof of the cottage.
    And how the hell was that possible?

EIGHT

    I HIKED MY SHOULDERS UP, tucked my head, and stuffed