Darken (Siege #1) (4 page)

In the back office, he found his twin, Caleb, with Noh and Logan pouring over a pile of documents spread across the desk. His shoulders stiffened as he identified the SIEGE logo stamped on the front of one folder.

Caleb had been digging. His job at TanTech Securities allowed him access to some of the most confidential operations in both the private and government sector and while he didn’t have clearance for the SIEGE files, he wouldn’t let that stop him from snooping.

Gavin must have made a sound because both men stopped talking and looked up at him. The expressions they wore twisted his gut.

“We have a problem,” Logan said.

“When don’t we?” Gavin replied, reaching up to hook his hands on the door frame. It seemed like they never had a problem-free existence. At one time or another, one of their lives had been crumbling to some degree. “I thought we all agreed to stop hunting Sinclair.”

“That was before Caleb found this on the security feed.” Logan held out a stack of photos, but Gavin made no move to take them, so Logan held them up, forcing Gavin to look at the man who haunted them. “Sinclair was at the pub and your apartment building.”

“Who is that?”

Gavin’s arms dropped and he spun around to glare at Cora, who stood almost directly behind him, peeking under his arm and into the office. She pushed past him, moving to take the surveillance image from Logan.

“Who is he?” she repeated, looking from the photograph to the brothers, fear tightening her face.

“Why?” Gavin stepped closer to her.

“I … I thought I recognized him,” she said, her eyes darting around the room. “But I’m probably wrong.”

He could tell it was the truth, but not the whole truth. She was hiding something, and if it involved Sinclair, he wasn’t going to let her get away without spilling the details.

“Anyways, I covered Keeley’s break, so she’s good till close,” she said, dropping the photo on top of the desk. “See you guys tomorrow.”

The four of them stared after her before turning back to each other. Gavin wasn’t the only one she failed convinced.

“What was that about?” Logan asked.

“Fuck if I know.” Noah shook his head. “I’ll go talk to her.”

The thought of Noah and Cora alone together in the change room rankled. Gavin shifted his body blocking his brother’s path.

“I’ll talk to her.”

He went down to the locker room, knocking once to give her warning before opening the door. Only the very top of her head was visible above the screen in the corner, and it struck him how small she was.

She lifted onto tiptoes, and her eyes peeked over to peer at him. The fear lingered, though he could tell she tried to hide it.

“I’m almost done,” she said, and her arms lifted to pull on her shirt.

She walked around the divider, her blond curls hung loosely over her shoulders, brushing her breasts. Under his gaze, her nipples hardened into little nubs, pressing against the thin material of her shirt, and his mouth watered.
Fuck, he wanted to taste her.

“Did you need something?” She tugged on a hoodie, snapping his brain back to what he needed to focus on.

“How do you know Sinclair?”

“I don’t.”

“Bullshit.” He closed the distance between them, causing her to tip her head back in order to stare up at him. “I saw how you reacted to his picture, Cora. How do you know him?”

“I don’t. I swear.” She shook her head, sending her curls sweeping across her chest. “He just looked familiar.”

There it was again, not a lie, but not exactly honest, either.

“If you’re lying …” He let the threat dangle between them.

“I’m not. Gavin, I promise you, I’ve never met the man.” She held his gaze, and he believed her that time. “Who is he?”

“Nobody.”

Her lips tilted in a half-smile. “I doubt that. Even if you hadn’t freaked about me thinking I recognized him, Logan said the guy followed you.”

He searched the soft angles of her face, so different than Lela’s. Cora possessed a sweetness that would leave her forever looking younger than she was, a sweetness that begged him to share his secrets, to forgive her for what happened to Lela. Yet, he couldn’t forgive.

His heart hardened, shutting out her false innocence.

“Sinclair is the only person in this world I despise more than you.”

Chapter Four

COFFEE WAS A GIFT FROM God brewed in hell.

There was no other way Cora could explain the magical properties of such a nasty tasting concoction.

She walked into the coffee shop down the road from Porter’s Pub and joined the mid-morning line. Inhaling deeply, she pondered the irony of how something that smelled so good could taste so vile. Yet as disgusting as she found it, she was a slave to its ability to wake her up and keep her that way. With the visions coming more frequently, she’d been getting even less sleep than usual and needed the boost.

The door chimed, and in idle curiosity, she peeked over her shoulder to see who else was subjecting themselves to their morning ritual. Her muscles tensed as Gavin took the spot behind her in line. Their eyes met, and she gave a tentative smile. When he continued to scowl, she faced forward, concentrating on the menu board.

Sinclair is the only person in this world I despise more than you.

Even a week later, his words haunted her. They hadn’t surprised her. After the accident, she gave herself up for him to blame. Yet, despite her brother’s conviction it was because she was a martyr; she knew it was because she had been guilty. Maybe not of killing Lela, but somewhere deep inside her, Cora had wished Lela weren’t in the picture.

The line moved quickly, and she placed her order for a double mocha latte before finding a seat at an empty bistro table in the corner while she waited. She used the time to check her email and was in the midst of typing a response to her brother when Gavin sat down across from her.

The cell phone lay forgotten in her hand as she stared at him in shock.

“Sinclair was the doctor in charge of the Posthuman Project,” he said, gazing out the window.

Growing up, she heard the rumors about Gavin and his five brothers. She’d been a child—about seven when it happened—so the details weren’t there, but there’d never been any question that the boys suffered as part of the SIEGE scandal.

“What I’m about to tell you doesn’t go any further. My family has been through enough because of Sinclair.” He turned to her, leaning across the table. “The only reason I’m even telling you is because you know him and I think you deserve to be warned.”

“I don’t know him,” she denied. “It’s the truth, Gavin. He just looked familiar.”

“I wish I could believe you,” he said, his expression making it clear any belief was far off. “Did Lela ever tell you about what happened to my brothers and me before we moved here?”

“No, but there were rumors when you guys first arrived.”

“We were born in the labs at SEIGE. Our mothers were volunteers; our fathers sperm donors. Our sole purpose was to serve as test subjects in the development of experimental serums to facilitate the physical and psychological advancement of soldiers. We were restricted to the labs; our interactions with the outside world limited to the teacher.”

He paused as the barista delivered their drinks. Cora took a sip of her latte, not wanting to say anything that might stop him from telling his story.

“What happened to us … Sinclair tortured us under the guise of scientific discovery. We still don’t know all of the long-term effects.”

“Gavin,” she said, reaching across the table to rest her hand over his. “You don’t need to tell me this.”

“I do because you need to understand what Sinclair is capable of. He’s dangerous.”

She nodded. In her visions, she saw Sinclair in action, his determination to kill Gavin. Everything inside of her screamed at her to tell Gavin about the visions, but she didn’t. Despite the danger Gavin obviously realized Sinclair represented, it was still a long stretch to accept psychic visions.

“Okay,” she said. “If I ever see him, I’ll stay away.”

There was an awkward pause while he must have been weighing the truth of her words. She didn’t know what else to say to convince him, then realized nothing would. And honestly, she couldn’t blame him because she wasn’t being entirely upfront with him.

“Logan said Sinclair’s been following you. Have you seen him?”

“No.” He shrugged. “He knows better than to get close enough for me to spot him.”

She thought about all the times Sinclair came within only a few yards of Gavin without detection.

“If he’s been watching you, you should be more careful. He doesn’t need to be close to hurt you.”

“I got it covered.” He sipped from his cup and nodded toward hers. “I didn’t think you drank coffee.”

“I do. I just wish I didn’t have to.” She gave a soft laugh. “I can’t stand the stuff, but it keeps me going. Besides, this is a latte, so it’s not as bad.”

“Lela loved coming here,” he said, his eyes scanning the coffee shop.

“I remember.” She and Lela spent so much time there during college it became like a second home. “She’d bring her textbooks and sit for hours, studying and drinking her coffee.”

“She had to. Her father wouldn’t let her drink it at home.”

“I think that’s why she did it,” Cora said. “It was her little rebellion against her parents.”

“You’re probably right. She could stand toe to toe with everyone else, but with her parents, she was too worried about their opinion.”

Talking about Lela had always been painful—a mixture of grief and guilt. But at that moment, it felt natural. Like the both of them had reached a point where the mere mention of her name didn’t tear a piece of their soul from them.

Cora wanted the moment to go on forever, yet as she started to say something else, the alarm on her cell phone went.

“I better get going. I’m working the afternoon shift.”

“Me too. I’ll walk with you.”

Cora’s heart jumped at his offer then she mentally told herself to calm down. It was only a walk down the street. A walk that was done in silence.

As the day wore on, the olive branch she hoped his offer was withered into a switch that lashed at her back with the cutting glances he kept throwing her way.

By the end of her shift, she decided that she’d imagined the friendly exchange.

“After you’ve finished scanning everything, file the packing slips here,” Noah said as he pulled out the drawing of the filing cabinet. “We clear them out after tax season.”

“Doesn’t the computer keep track of everything?” Cora gestured to his laptop.

“It does, but as much confidence as Caleb and Gavin have in technology, I don’t trust it.”

He sank into the chair behind his desk, and she sat across from him, groaning as her feet pulsed from their new position. Five straight shifts left her drained. That day, she did seven hours on the floor before spending the last hour learning the receiving system.

“I’m exhausted,” she said as Noah chuckled. “What happened to the six-hour shifts?”

“Business has picked up since Dixon’s pub closed.” He sifted through some papers before tossing them back on the desk. “We’re hoping to hire at least two more girls for the floor and possibly another bartender. The options are pretty slim, though.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t limit it to women,” she suggested.

He held up his hands to stave off any further argument. “Hey, I have no problem with guys working the floor, but I know our clientele.”

“Sexist?”

“Men who like to look at pretty ladies.”

“Sexist.”

“Business is business, and even though my brothers manage to bring in some of the ladies, it’s not enough for me to forget who’s paying the bills.”

“That’s only because you refuse to consider Keeley’s proposal.”

Noah snorted. “There’s no way Gavin and Josh are going to work shirtless.”

“I’m sure Josh would be up for it.”

“Yeah, well, don’t give him any ideas. So, you still interested in learning the business side of this?” he asked.

“Of course.”

Her head nodded, but she couldn’t help thinking of the job she left in Denver. It had been an entry-level position but it had been a start—a path to becoming head curator of a museum or gallery. At least assistant managing Porter’s Pub would give her managerial experience.

“You ever going to tell me why you’re really here?” Noah stared at her, a dark eyebrow lifted in warning that he wasn’t likely to buy any lie she gave him.

“I decided I wanted to experience working in a bar.” Her response earned a snort of disbelief from Noah.

“There’s no way in hell little Coraline Evans, world traveler, and art connoisseur
actually
wants to learn how to manage a bar in Thompson Creek.”

Her lips tipped up. “So it’s not what I’d planned to do with my life, but it’s where I need to be.”

“Anything to do with my brother?” He sighed when she didn’t say anything. “Cora …”

“Don’t say it.”

“Someone needs to say it. Gavin is lost. He’s buried in that grave with Lela and if you give him the chance, he will hurt you.” Noah held up his hand when she made a weak sound of protest. “Back in high school and college, it was pretty obvious you had a crush on him.”

Her face burst into flames. She always thought she’d done a good job of hiding her feelings. But if Noah—someone she rarely interacted with back then—figured it out, who else had?

“Lela was my best friend. I would never have …”

“I know. You were a good friend to Lela.”

She could tell he was thinking of how Lela died. But long before she let Lela drown, trapped in the car, she had envied her friend and used her as an opportunity to see Gavin. Deep down, she always knew that if Lela and Gavin hadn’t been together, she wouldn’t have made such an effort to keep in touch with her friend, but her unhealthy need to torture herself pushed her to desperately hold onto a childhood friend who provided a connection with Gavin.

In the end, Lela was more of a means to an end.

“You’re wrong,” she said, the bitter taste of guilt turning her stomach sour. Before Noah could argue or offer her meaningless platitudes, she stood. “I better get going. I’m meeting a friend for drinks.”

Her escape from the conversation with Noah seemed like the best plan until she walked into the change room and found a shirtless Gavin. He was digging in his locker, his back to her.

The tribal tattoo spiraling over his shoulder and down one side of his back did only partially concealed the scars crisscrossing his back, forcing her to face the reality of what he must have gone through as a child. That morning, he’d said they’d been tortured, but something inside her hadn’t let her consider that it what that truly meant.

The door clicked shut behind her, and Gavin glanced over his shoulder at her. She nodded her head curtly and opened her locker. From the corner of her eye, she watched him pull on a clean shirt.

Life had not been fair to him.

“I would have traded places with her,” she said, her words nothing more than a whisper.

“I know.”

“You hate me for what happened.”

He rubbed a hand across his face. She pulled out her coat and shut the locker, staring down at her trembling hands.

“Maybe,” he finally responded. “And I want to because hating you would be so much easier than this.”

Only steps away from him, the sound of his deep breaths flowed around her, and then she sensed him moving behind her.

He stopped within a breath of her, not touching her, but close enough for the heat of his body to warm her and send a rush of tingles through her, tightening her nerves in anticipation. His hand came up to press against the locker door in front of her and he leaned in, his lips skimming her ear.

“Cora,” he said.

His rough voice tugged her back and she sank into him, the hard ridges of his body keeping her from melting. His other hand slid across her ribs and settled low on her belly. The pressure of his hand held her in place as his hips pushed forward, rubbing his erection between the cheeks of her ass.

She arched her back, nestling her head into the crook of his neck. Her hands grasped his forearms. His teeth nipped at her ear and a low moan escaped her.

Then something hit the wall outside the room. They both froze, processing the sound. Cora squeezed her eyes shut as she committed the moment to memory. Even though she expected it, when he tore himself away from her, she gasped at the loss of contact.

She turned around to look up at him, trying to figure out what he was thinking. But he was impossible to read, his face hardened into an emotionless mask.

Grabbing her purse and coat, she walked to the door where she paused, grasping the handle with a tight grip.

“It’s okay to hate me.”

In the silence following her words, she pulled open the door and left.

Her apartment was only a few blocks away, but the walk felt like an eternity. Every step of the way, she kept thinking about Noah’s prediction about Gavin hurting her. She knew it would happen eventually, but she didn’t know how deep it would go.

A car honked, stopping her in her tracks and she realized she’d nearly walked into traffic and past her place. The ground floor of her building housed commercial properties with a bookstore, antique shop, and a couple of clothing stores. Her apartment was on the second floor along with three other units. The front entrance, a battered old door between the bookstore and antique shop, consisted of a small foyer for their mailboxes and the stairwell.