Becca

• A FEW HOURS LATER, the lights flicker above me, and I blink. For a second the lab is bathed in darkness, the only light coming from the computers. I stand, but they come back on, as if everything’s normal. My computers are all running, but they’re on backup generators so if there’s a power outage, I don’t lose any data. Still, it’s odd.

“Security,” a low voice calls and I rear up from the desk. A young man with spiky blond hair holds up his hands. He’s wearing black jeans and a black t-shirt molded to his muscled chest. He’s not a big guy, like some of the security guards, but he is pure lean muscle. Something about him makes my near-extinct libido rev its engine.

“Hey, sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s all right. Um, do you need me to go?” I gather up some papers. “No, I won’t be here long. Are you on the night shift?”

I flash him a smile. He’s young for a security guard—my age. Tattoos run up his forearms and he has gauges in both ears. Even so, he’s friendly-looking, and not in a creepy way.

“I’m just working late. Ongoing project. You know how it is.” “I’ll be quick,” he says. “Just doing the rounds.”

“Got it. They sure don’t skimp on the security around here.”

Another low laugh. He’s a little James Dean. Or Billy Idol. Not like the other military-type guards. “I promise not to get in your way.” His voice is smoky.

“Thank you.” This earns him a bigger smile. My lab is my kingdom and sanctuary. As much time as I spend here, it should be my permanent address.

I pinch the bridge of my nose to relieve the ache between my eyes. It’s nighttime, which means dinner. I haven’t even eaten lunch.

I head to the corner where I keep my granola bars and pain meds, feeling the young guard’s eyes on me. He’s attractive, if you pay attention to things like that. Which I usually don’t. For whatever reason, my hormones, which have barely worked since I skipped high school and went straight to college, just kicked into gear. Over the first friendly security guard in this prison-like work environment. Go figure. I definitely need to get out more.

I use the break to go to the bathroom, where I splash water on my face. Other than dark circles under my eyes, I don’t look too horrible. My straight black hair is pulled into a tight ponytail, no muss, no fuss. I have high cheekbones and dimples, like my mother, with almond-shaped eyes, a gift from my Chinese-American father. I guess I’m pretty. Even in a lab coat, my curves are obvious. Not as full as they would be if I ate regularly. But under the white fabric is a woman’s body. Enough to entice skeevy security guards. Enough to draw Santiago’s attention.

I make a face at the mirror. I don’t care if he’s a donor and multi-millionaire—and he must be, to fund a project like this. That dude was creepy. I don’t want him ogling me. The young security guard… now that’s a different matter. Wouldn’t mind a strip search from him.

Okay, that was an uncharacteristically sexual thought. What’s going on with me? I really have been too isolated lately.

When I return to my seat, the computer flickers. Odd. It was fine a minute ago. But now the screen is alive with movement.

What the hell? I frown, my fingers flying for the mouse. My research is on this computer and I don’t have time for IT problems.

I look over and see the young security guard bent at a modem in the corner. “What are you doing?”

He straightens, but doesn’t answer.

“The only person who’s supposed to touch these computers is me.”

He shoves his hands in his pockets and for some reason, I think he’s doing it to seem less threatening.

“Did Dr. Johnson send you?”

The handsome guard goes still. Fully alert. “You know Dr. Johnson?” “Of course I do. He hired me. He was just here.”

“Here?” The man’s mouth tightens, blue eyes blaze. “Did you see him?”

“Yes. Why?” The computer beeping beside me makes me turn. “What did you do?” Numbers scroll across the screen, some sort of code I don’t recognize. “These machines are used only for tabulating my test results.” I hit the keyboard and nothing happens. “Did you do this? Make it stop!”

When I turn, he’s pointing a gun at me. A large handgun with an extra barrel on top. “Step away from the computer,” he says. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

My heart jams up in my throat. I raise my hands and back away. Gone is the casual, harmless air, replaced by a hard-faced soldier.

Who in the hell is this guy and what does he want? Suddenly the security in this building doesn’t seem so over the top. Maybe they really do have people who want to steal the research. If I can get into the hall, I can pull an alarm. My eyes must’ve flashed in that direction because he shakes his head.

“Don’t even think about it.”

My blood runs hot, then cold. “What are you going to do?”

“What I have to. No more, no less. Do as I say and you have nothing to worry about.” Says the man holding the gun. I keep still, mentally tallying everything in this place I could use as a weapon. There are a few vials of infectious diseases in a cold room, but if I throw them at him, I’m putting myself at risk. Keeping the gun trained on me, the intruder moves to the computer and waits.

“A few more minutes, and I’ll be on my way. This lab is rigged with explosives, though. So you’ll want to get out quick.”

Ice sluices through my veins. “What? No,” I gasp. “You’re bluffing.” “I don’t bluff.”

I grip the back of a chair to keep upright, the tidal wave in my stomach making me dizzy. “Why are you doing this? This research could save lives.” My brain spins, working on how to get my data out of the place before it blows.

“Is that what they told you to get you to work here?” He has an eerie calm about him. A quiet intelligence that keeps me from writing him off as a lunatic.

How could I have mistaken him for a security guard? When he turns his eyes on me, I see I was wrong—they aren’t blue. They glow a weird yellow color. Or maybe it’s a trick of the light.

“They lied.”

“No, it’s the truth. I should know. I’ve been working on this project half my life. And I’m so close to a breakthrough.” I can’t stop myself from turning to the printer and grabbing the reams of paper printout. “Please, my findings will mean so much to people. People with no hope—” my breath catches on a sob. I don’t usually wear my heart on my sleeve. Guess having my life threatened brings it out.

He takes a soft step forward and studies my face a moment. “What did you find?”

“The cells I’m working on—they’re resistant to disease. Not only that, they regenerate. I’m almost done extracting their DNA sequence. Once I do that, I’ll be able to replicate it.”

Something flickers in his expression, but I can’t quite read it. “And then what?”

“Then… I’ll use it to help people. People who are sick. People who have debilitating, life-threatening diseases, and no other options. This can help so many.” I stop as the lights flicker again.

They come back on, pause, as if holding their breath. Then cut off for good and we’re plunged into darkness. I can only see by the green gleam of the exit sign over the door. The young guard hasn’t moved, and I realize— this is part of his plan. His handsome face is almost weary in the low light of the computer screens.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

Something in me snaps. I run toward the door. He’s on me in a flash, arms banding around me from behind. I open my mouth to scream and he clamps a hand over my mouth. It occurs to me he didn’t use the gun. Why not?

“Calm down.” He carries me backwards. I’m smaller than him, and he’s also freakishly strong. “I don’t want to hurt you. I just want to know more about Dr. Johnson. Where is he now? In the facility?” He smells like pine trees and warm earth. Maybe it’s a sign that I’ve been cooped up alone here too long, but his arms feel nice around me—as if he’s giving me a hug, not restraining me. And I’m not as freaked out as I probably should be. Still, I can’t have him ruining my research. He slowly peels his fingers from over my mouth.

“I don’t know anything. Please. I was just hired a few months ago!”

“But you saw him today?”

I nod.

“Was he with anyone?”

“An old man—a donor. Don Santiago. He had lots of bodyguards,” I add. “Like ten of them. Men with guns. Militia.” I don’t know if I tell him that part to scare him or because I need to share it with someone because I found it so bizarre.

The young man turns me so I face him. He holds both my forearms in a firm but not bruising grip. Something about his closeness brings my body to life, my nipples tingly and hot, heat pooling between my legs. But it’s insane to be attracted to a criminal.

“Are they in the building?”

I shake my head. “No, I think they left.”

“Where did they go? Does Johnson have an office here?” “Please…”

“Answer me!” he snaps.

“No! I don’t know where he works. We usually conference by phone or video.” I peer up at him in the darkness. His eyes are ancient in his youthful face. He’s lived a hard life, whoever he is.

“What’s your name?”

“Dr. Smith. Becca.” I add my first name, hoping he’ll see me as a person, not some faceless lab rat. I lick my lips. Briefly, his gaze falls to them. Indecision plays over his face.

“All right, Becca.” He rotates me to pin both my wrists behind my back. “You’re coming with me.”