Designed to Love (30 page)

"Yes,"
he
says quietly.
"We're trying to come up with a
plan. Unfortunately, they seem to have thought of
everything,"
his disembodied voice says thickly.

"I'll try to persuade
Zane into leaking information about where they're being kept.
Lawrence says I've been specifically altered to be able to
influence people into a higher color screening, but I'm not so
sure. The last time I tried to influence Zane he gave me a fat
lip,"
I carelessly disclose, forgetting for a moment
that it's my husband I'm admitting this to, until it's too
late.

"That son of a bitch!
I'll tear him to shreds!"
he growls loud enough to make
me wince.

"I'm sorry Ronan. That
sort of slipped out—I wasn't going to tell you."

"Cat, you said that you
have the ability to move objects like Claire, right?"

I immediately know what he's getting at, and
I squelch the idea.
"I can't Ronan. Zane isn't
alone in this and if anyone suspects me, then they will go after
our family. You saw what they did to Chord. I just can't risk it.
I'll try it Lawrence's way for now. I have to go; he's waiting for
me. Please try not to worry. I'll connect with you again later. I
love you. Tell Claire I love her too."
It breaks my
heart to block his pleas for more time from my mind as I walk out
of the bathroom.

***

While Zane is preoccupied serving up our
plates, I preoccupy myself with the challenge of clearing my
feelings of fear and hatred for the man. Lawrence didn't really go
into detail on how to erase murderous thoughts from your mind, so I
do what's proven in the past to make me feel better—focus on the
happiest memories I hold of Ronan, Claire and the rest of my
family. It's not until I've done everything possible to build my
own energy up, that I turn my attention on Zane who is sitting
there waiting for me to take my first bite of food.

"Hmm, I taste coconut, garlic and ginger," I
report after slowly chewing the first bite of Bombay chicken,
savoring the burst of flavors. Zane smiles; seemingly pleased by my
culinary discernment. When I smile back, the aura of color
surrounding him lightens briefly, nothing like when I touched him,
but I'll take whatever I can get. A feeling of wellbeing passes
through me as I observe my energy field wrap around his body.
Peace, love, kindness,
I repeat to
myself, and release the swirling hues of my own white particles to
wrap around his energy field.

He shifts in his seat and his forehead
creases, a possible sign that his subconscious detects the
intrusion. I distract him with a subliminal suggestion,
tap your fork on your glass,
and
smile widely when he picks up his water glass and lightly taps it
with his fork. At first, there is a look of confusion on his face,
then he clears his throat, holds his glass up, and smoothly says,
"Shall we toast?" Raising my glass, I play along, letting it clink
against his, nodding in agreement when he toasts to a cooperative
alliance between him and the Designers.

So you take pride in
behaving like a classy formal English gentleman, huh? We all know
that's a fraud—let's see the real Zane Harrington
, I
think as I introduce the simple idea that he should ditch the bow
tie and dinner jacket. He shakes his head in bewilderment and
apologizes profusely as he obeys the suggestion.

"I don't know what's gotten into me," he
murmurs when I next influence him into taking off his shoes, then
dipping his finger in the hot wax from the lighted candle on our
table. He cringes and blows on his finger, cussing under his
breath. Seeing him struggle with the humility of his own actions
provides the most entertainment I've had in weeks.

***

"So, why don't you have servants and chefs
waiting on you?" I ask, as I help him clear the table, both of us
padding around the dining room in our bare feet.

"I've gone through several chefs over the
years and eventually gave up, resigning to the fact that no one can
satisfy my taste buds, better than me. The truth is I love to cook,
so I guess I look at it as more of a hobby then a chore."

"Well you haven't tasted my cooking yet," I
say without forethought and watch as speckles of orange flicker in
his blue energy field correlating with the look of pleasure
spreading across his face.

"It sounds like you are offering to make
breakfast," he says.

"I didn't know I was staying the night," I
reply suddenly panicked, finding myself backing away from him.

"Cataryn, I have a guest room set up for
you. Trust me, I won't lay a hand on you in that manner until you
ask," he says in a way that leaves me with the impression that he
thinks I will.

"Never!" I hiss, backing away from him.

"We'll see," he replies, shrugging his
shoulders.

I glance at the door, and consider making a
run for it. As if reading my mind, he says, "Follow me," a slow
smile spreading across his face, as he leads me outside.

***

"Boys, say hi to Cataryn," Zane says
unlocking the gate to an outdoor fenced area that houses close to a
dozen huge, wolf hybrids or wolf dogs; a breed often banned to keep
as pets due to their reputation for being aggressive towards
humans.

"Don't move, Cataryn. They won't hurt you
unless I give them the order to," he says.

I stand motionlessly as one by one they
approach me, sniffing my shoes and jeans. When Zane is satisfied
that they have my scent, he uses hand signals and calls out a few
commands in German, and the pack scatters to the perimeter of the
yard disappearing into the thick grove of trees that line it. A few
seconds later, they reappear darting in and out of the trees
nervously and whining as they watch the two of us. Zane's brow
furrows, and he sternly calls a few more commands but this only
serves to agitate the pack even more and a few growl and nip at
each other in response. A big dark gray, alpha male with golden
eyes, boldly trots into the center of the yard, challenging Zane's
authority, prompting him to grab me, and shove me into the dog
kennel.

"Stay here until I tell you it's safe to
come out," Zane orders.

He starts toward the dog to correct the
disobedient behavior, but stops short when he sees all the other
dogs slowly advancing our way, ignoring his commands to retreat to
the tree line. When they omit a low growl and bare their razor
sharp teeth, he backs up and joins me in the dog kennel, cussing
softly under his breath. It takes everything in me to keep from
laughing out loud.
You're my boys
now,
I silently gloat. I barely even acknowledge Zane
when he says that he might not be able to prevent or stop an attack
should I attempt to leave the house unescorted. I am looking
directly into the gray one's amber eyes that remind me so much of
Ronan, that it leaves me breathless.

***

Zane's converted hotel to residential home
is befitting of the eccentric multimillionaire. There are a total
of twenty-two guest rooms on the entry level eleven down each wing
on either side of the staircase. His room is on the second story,
the same level as the kitchen, dining room and great room.

"Why such a big house for just one person?"
I inquire, searching his face for any clues as to who else may be
involved in his elaborate scheme.

"You'd be surprised how many people come and
go from this facility—family, business partners, researchers, to
name a few. In fact, you're going to get to meet some tomorrow," he
says, watching my reaction carefully.

I freeze, and my heart beats wildly out of
control.

"Who?" I manage to croak, unable to squelch
my sudden apprehension.

"I can't say," he says, simply.

"Zane, you can change your mind about all of
this. It's not too late," I blurt out in desperation, unable to
stop the tears already stinging my eyes.

"Cataryn, this is bigger than just me. There
are others involved who are ten times more ruthless and will stop
at nothing to get what they want. Cooperate with me and no one will
get hurt. I promise."

We stare at each other for a moment, and I
consider the gravity behind his words.

Mafia...?

A scene from the Godfather flashes in my
mind and I involuntarily shutter.

"I won't allow you to exploit my
six-year-old sister and neither will the others, including my
husband. You're going to have to murder a lot of people to get to
her."

Zane snickers. "That's very noble but do you
think your husband is going to stand by and watch you being hurt or
tortured? What do you think he'll say if he sees me doing this?" In
one swift movement, he has my arm twisted behind me, and my body
pinned tightly against his, so that I can't move an inch.

"Go ahead Cataryn, scream for Ronan. Beg me
to stop," he says through gritted teeth, now so close that I can
smell the lingering garlic on his breath. In a flash, his color
screen changes, all traces of blue fading, leaving a swirling hue
of gray that is as cold as the look in his eyes. Slowly, inch by
inch, he pushes up on my arm, threatening to snap it out of the
socket.

"Zane stop! You'll dislocate my shoulder," I
cry, frantically trying my best to organize and center my energy
and thoughts on him.

"Say you'll cooperate," he says through
gritted teeth.

"Yes! I'll cooperate," I sob.

He smiles. "That's good," he breathes,
pleased by my response.

A large oriental vase displayed on a console
table catches my eye and without planning, I cast a wave of energy
that has enough power to send it catapulting through the air
crashing to the floor a few feet from where we stand. Zane jerks me
around in front of him pressing his arm across my throat.

"What the hell...?" His eyes dart around the
room, looking for an explanation.

"It was Ronan," I manage to croak. The fib
has a positive effect. Zane drops his arm from around my neck and
swings me around to face him. For a split second, I see a glimmer
of fear in his eyes and I take advantage of the moment by stringing
him along.

"They've found me, Zane. Ronan can remote
travel, and he's watching you right now," I warn, trying to keep my
voice steady.

His jaw tightens but a wicked smile plays at
the corner of his mouth.

"Well then, I'll do my best to give him a
good show," he murmurs, leaning down and pressing his lips to mine
catching me completely off guard.

"You despicable son of a bitch," I hiss,
wrenching free, as my hand flies up striking him hard on the
cheek.

He sucks in a deep breath and closes his
eyes, his jaw twitching from the tension. "Cataryn, that was
probably the biggest mistake you will ever make," he snarls, his
hand gripping my arm like a vice.

RONAN

"I don't know what to do," Alisha whispers
for the third time, followed by a sniffle as she dabs her eyes. An
hour after watching the video, we all sit motionless in the great
room trying to grasp the notion that the family members that were
buried in our hearts and minds, are actually alive and being held
hostage. Whoever was behind the kidnappings, had gone to an
elaborate effort to make most of them seem like accidental deaths,
staving off a full blown investigation. Cat says they're being held
in different locations, possibly scattered all over the world,
making a rescue of one without compromising the others nearly
impossible. The perpetrators had intimate knowledge of Dr. Kappel's
work in genetic modifications, and knew of our potential long
before even we did. We are at their mercy, and for the first time
in months, I resent the genetic manipulation of my DNA once
again.

"I'll tell you what we're going to do, Ali.
Tomorrow morning, we're going to abandon our oath to Bernie and
focus on destroying that pipeline. We'll evoke an earthquake
beneath the Bakken oil fields so powerful that every inch of it is
destroyed. We're going to do this because we have no other choice,
and maybe, just maybe, one of us will get lucky enough to be
reunited with a family member. Got it?" I say, daring
opposition.

"I don't know. I was told we would be
working undercover for our government..." Natalie says, hesitantly,
looking up at me with a set of wide green eyes, clearly struggling
with the moral dilemma. I bite my tongue not to tell her to go to
hell.

"Your parents and siblings are no safer than
ours were," Alisha says quietly.

There is icy tension in the room as all eyes
turn to Natalie, waiting for her decision. Brandon alleviates some
of the uneasiness when he says, "I'm in. You guys are my family,
and I'll do whatever it takes to help get the others back
safely."

There's a chorus of "thank you," murmured by
the group and Elizabeth turns and gives him a quick hug before
saying, "Ditto—me too."

"Oh all right," Natalie finally says,
throwing her hands up in the air. "Count me in as well. Even though
I've only known you for a short time, I feel a certain kind of
kinship to you. I'll call my brother Austin to help—he thrives on
this sort of thing."

"I'm not a Designer, but I'll help in any
way I can," Jason adds, sealing the allegiance and motivating
Alisha into action.

***

The Bakken oil fields are contained in about
200,000 square miles mostly in North Dakota and some parts of
Montana and Canada. Approximately 500,000 barrels of oil per day
are produced, far exceeding the pipeline capacity to ship it out of
North Dakota. To date there is only one pipeline connected to the
oil fields, taking it to refineries in Canada. The rest is
transported by railway to Texas refineries, a practice that is not
without controversy due to the expense. The Keystone pipeline
project, once completed, will eliminate the need for either,
costing the investors involved millions of dollars.