Devil s Due Page 0,85

wash it while you're at it!"

Because, of course, saving the world wasn't work enough.

She was at the steel door when she felt someone behind her, and turned to see McCarthy. He leaned a hand on the metal, another on the wall, boxing her in. "You really going?" he asked. "Yes. I really am."

He lowered his voice. "You want to take a test?" She nodded mutely. "Can I come with you?"

"It isn't safe. You heard Simms."

"Sweetheart, I've been in danger my whole life. I survived some nights in Ellsworth that you wouldn't believe. I think I can survive a day in your company." He was slowly leaning closer, as if her gravity was pulling him in. "Let me come with you. Please."

She looked over his shoulder. Jazz was studying floor plans and ignoring Borden, and he was staring at her with naked suffering on his face.

"Let me." Ben's breath was warm against her face, his voice an intimate whisper in her ear. He pulled back enough to look into her eyes. "You told me to make a choice based on what I want, not what you want. Well, this is it."

She turned away, opened the door and went down the stairs. She looked back. He was standing at the top, watching her, holding the door open.

"Coming?" she asked.

The door boomed shut behind him as he ran down the steps toward her.

It seemed oddly normal, shopping at the drugstore - picking up a few odds and ends she knew she was running short of. McCarthy silently followed her as she strolled the aisles, and she finally turned to the shelves filled with feminine products.

Pregnancy tests were at the top. She stared at the choices blindly for a moment, then reached up and took one at random. It looked simple enough. As she was reading the back, she said, "This could all be a lie, you know."

"Yeah. And if it isn't, it probably didn't even work, what they were - doing to you. It doesn't, right? Not all the time"

She added the test to her basket and went to the checkout counter. The clerk didn't make any comments, and neither did she. She wondered idly which was more uncomfortable, buying intimate things like this or seeing a steady progression of them all day. Teenage boys with boxes of condoms. Hell, middle-aged matrons with boxes of condoms. Pregnancy tests.

The clerk met her eyes briefly and smiled. "Good luck." She led the way back to the vehicle, climbed in and piloted the thing to her apartment.

The apartment was undisturbed. The upgraded security monitors - Jazz's doing - showed no intrusions, but then, if Gregory decided to pay another visit, they probably wouldn't. He'd been the one to come and get her; she knew it beyond any doubt. That first night, when she'd woken on the couch and found him in the apartment, had been his dry run, to test the system. He'd almost warned her then, she realized. Almost.

She locked the door and reset the alarms, and exchanged a silent look with McCarthy.

"You do what you need to do," he said, and went into the kitchen. He pulled a beer from the fridge. "I'll be here."

She went into the bathroom with the box, took off her clothes and grimaced at the state of her hair and general hygiene. She stepped into the shower and let herself fall into a kind of trance, lulled by the warm water, the floral scents of the shampoo and soaps.

Maybe it isn't true. Maybe none of this is true.

She finished and stepped out of the shower, damp and glowing, and decisively ripped open the package to find the test kit.

Ten minutes later, she stared at the single blue line on the strip.

Oh, my God.

She found herself sliding down against the tiled wall, staring at the plastic holder and the blue line. Such a simple thing, to make so many terrible things real.

She dumped it into the trash can, then followed it with her clothes, for no better reason than she never wanted to wear them again, or see them again. She washed her hands with vicious thoroughness.

She wrapped herself in her soft fleece robe, damp hair straggling down her back, and opened the bathroom door.

McCarthy stood there, holding out two choices - beer and soft drink.

She took the soft drink.

He let out his breath in a long, low sigh and turned away. She thought he was all right for a second, and then he let out a harsh yell,