free run of the facility.” He frowned and the doctor flinched.
“Yes, of course. It’s just rather late.”
“I’m doing a final security check. We can’t take any chances with Ms. Gatling’s safety.”
The doctor wrung his hands together as he nodded. “No, no.”
“Why are you up so late?” John asked.
“Just checking on an experiment.” The doctor began to babble on about test parameters and timing, but John was no longer paying attention. A very large part of him wanted to return to Serena, take her in his arms, and kiss her until she listened to him. But no matter how strong their physical connection, unless she could find it in herself to trust him, there was very little that he could do. He had no intention of giving up on her, but perhaps a night without him would help her realize that she missed him.
He had seen for himself that the lab was well secured and had encountered nothing more threatening than the odd collection of scientists. She would be safe here, he decided. He would go and check on Winston and get his own thoughts in order. He felt a sudden desperate longing for the simplicity of the empty desert. He nodded abruptly at Dr. Renfrey.
“I’ll leave you to your experiments. Goodnight.”
“G-goodnight.”
He had taken only a few steps in the direction of the exit when he felt a sudden prick in his neck. He clapped a hand to the spot and pulled free a dart. Even as he stared at it, he could feel an icy cold spreading from where the needle had penetrated his skin. His strength drained away as his body began to go numb. He managed to turn and stagger back towards the doctor but only made it a few steps before his knees gave out. The man was pale and shaking, obviously terrified. Had he been the one to throw the dart? But even as he wondered, a dark-haired woman stepped out of the shadows.
“Excellent. That was even easier than I anticipated. Now Ms. Gatling is all alone.”
No! His mouth wouldn’t form the word. He tried to lunge forward, managing to grab hold of the doctor’s pants leg before the numbness reached his hands. His surroundings seemed to be shrinking, collapsing down into a single point of light.
His last thought was of Serena.
Chapter Sixteen
When the knock sounded, Serena hurried to the door, foolishly anxious to see John despite their argument. But when she thrust open the panel, a strange woman stood there. She was neatly and expensively dressed in a tailored silk shirt and well-cut wool pants, pearls gleaming at her neck and ears. Serena instinctively drew herself up, assuming the icy composure she had learned so well.
“May I help you?”
“I believe so, Ms. Gatling.” The woman swept past her into the room. “I’m Louisa Bradbury. I am the Chief Executive Officer of GenCon.”
She swayed dizzily. “Louisa…”
“Yes.” The woman frowned. “Have you heard of me? Very few people are aware of my identity.”
A hysterical laugh threatened to erupt. Not know her identity? Not know the identity of the woman who had killed her child and almost killed her? Who had left her barren and alone?
“No,” she managed, years of acting coming to her rescue. “I didn’t know. The corporation documents list Louis Boudreaux as the CEO, not you.”
If she had known, she would never have taken a job working for GenCon. Taking a deep breath, she studied the woman who had destroyed her life. They were almost the same height, although Louisa was built along more generous lines. Her straight dark hair was gathered into an elegant chignon and her skin glowed a healthy pink. She could have been any of a thousand socialites Serena had met over the years. But then their eyes met and a chill skated down her spine. She had never seen a face so completely devoid of emotion except for the hybrids.
“Why are you here?” she asked.
“Because you’re about to become very useful to me.”
“No, I’m not.” She took a step back, then another, until she had backed herself against an end table. Her hand reached behind her, searching for a weapon, and closed around a lamp base.
“Don’t be ridiculous. Come with me.”
Louisa clamped cold, strong fingers on her arm. Serena couldn’t pull away from the painful grip, but she brought her other hand around and smashed the vase into Louisa’s skull with all the strength of fifteen years of hatred.
Blood spurted from Louisa’s scalp but she didn’t fall. She didn’t even