Of Eternal Life (4 page)

She heard a whimper and was shocked to realize that she had made it as she grasped his wrist, checking for his pulse there.

His body was still. Cooling to the touch. Lifeless.
Dead
.

She clutched the arm she held between her breasts and began to rock back and forth, making a keening noise that frightened her.
Why do I feel as though
I
am the one who has died?

“I’m sorry,” she moaned, pressing a kiss to his palm. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry — ” Tears gathered in her eyes and slipped out of her closed lids.

Minutes passed as she kept vigil, rocking, her sobs filling the tight space —

His arm
jerked
.

She looked at his face, and her heart kicked as he took a huge gulp of air. Several rattling breaths followed, and he began to panic, scissoring his legs and arms as though fleeing an unseen foe. She moved to shush him, to assure him that he was safe, when the hand she was holding clutched her shirt, pulling her forward with inhuman strength.

She face-planted in his chest and instantly moved to pull back, sure that physical contact with a stranger would only increase his panic.

But he stilled.

His breath left him in a sigh; the hand she wasn’t holding moved to cup the back of her head, and he secured her face against his chest. His body shuddered in what she could only describe as …
relief
?

Something warm filled her chest. “Shhh,” she murmured, stroking his hand with her thumb. “You’re okay. Everything is okay now.” As she rubbed her cheek against his chest, she was surprised to realize that it was.

• • •

Something was different. Eli could sense it. It has started the same way it always did. The black void interrupted by a flash of light, a gasp of breath. Panic had followed, and he’d struggled, jerking his arms and legs, his hands grasping, one of them finding purchase and tugging something toward him.

And then, his world had slowed down. His left hand moving, fingers burying in the softest thing he had ever felt. His right hand was being stroked in gentling circles, and he lay still to better absorb the sensations.

He was supposed to be afraid, wasn’t he? He struggled to remember, everything was so murky, but he was certain that in the past, at this point, he always felt
fear
.

A low, feminine voice was murmuring soothing sounds to him, and he relaxed completely. There was nothing to fear here. In fact, for the first time since he could remember, he felt complete. Fulfilled.

He extricated his right hand and swept his arm out to haul a warm bundle of curves to his side. He felt her stiffen, and then she relaxed against him. He brought his face to where his left hand was nestled and inhaled.

Sunshine.

Some distant memory pinged in his brain. He knew this smell. It was important to him, but why? His arm tightened.

She began to struggle again, and he rolled over her, pinning her movements with the weight of his body. She pushed against his chest, small sounds of distress escaping her lips, and he grabbed each wrist and hauled her arms over her head, burying his face in her neck and inhaling once again.

It’s her. She’s the One
.

His eyes opened in shock, and he found himself staring at a delicate ear surrounded by blonde curls. He lifted his head.

Wide, frightened, unbelievably blue eyes met his searching gaze.

“A-are you going to hurt me?” she stuttered.

Hurt her?
He could never hurt her. How could she not know that?

He shook his head in confusion. Panicked breaths puffed out of her parted lips and fanned across his neck.

“It’s you,” he said. Her eyes widened in question. “You’re here,” he whispered, awe lighting his face. His vision focused on her lips once again. All he could see, all his world was focused on, was her mouth. It was so lush. A full bottom lip. Fuller, sensuously curved upper lip. Straight, white teeth. The tip of her tongue darting out to lick her lips.

His groin tightened at the sight, and he groaned. He had to taste her. It was imperative. He began to lower his head, never breaking his focus on her lips.

His head snapped up, and he sniffed at the air.

Something was wrong.

A hand seized his ankle.

Abilene’s eyes widened in shock. He was going to …
kiss
her? She was equal parts titillated and horrified. This situation was outside of the normal care dictated by the Hippocratic oath.

His size had been much less daunting when he lay prone and unconscious on the floor. Now, pressed against her from knee to chest, his enormous weight pinning her to the floor, he was pretty damn scary.

Okay,
and
he was the most attractive man she had ever seen. The fact that he was naked rushed back in, and she bit her lip to keep from embarrassing herself with a moan.

His gaze narrowed further on her mouth, his head lowered, and her stomach fluttered. Just as his lips nearly brushed hers, he jerked his head up; he sniffed the air like an animal.

His body was wrenched down hers, his hands scrambled for purchase on the linoleum floor, and Abilene couldn’t comprehend what she was seeing.

The wall of shelving she viewed each day had swung into the closet, revealing …
a hidden door?
Beyond, she could see the top of a blond head. The man’s hand was wrapped around the ankle of her patient, and he was tugging.

Her patient drew his free leg back and kicked the blond head sharply, causing the unidentified man to drop his hold. She heard his gasp of pain.

The last half hour had held too many surprises for Abilene, and she feared she was not handling it well. She heard herself hyperventilating as her patient grasped her by the shoulders and pushed her into the wall, shielding her against the blond man with his own body.

“Shhh, you’re okay,” he muttered, an echo of her earlier assurances to him. “I won’t let you get hurt.” Yet, even as he promised her protection, he shook his head as though dizzy, and Abilene was reminded that just twenty minutes ago, he had been dead.

Her mind halted.
Wait a minute
. He couldn’t have been dead. People didn’t come back to life after they died.

Her hyperventilating worsened, and the closet around her swirled. She looked at the blond man again.

“M-major Taylor?” she stammered, confused even more.

Her patient recoiled as though struck. His eyes snapped to her face and demanded explanation.

“My boss,” she clarified.

His shoulders slumped. “No,” he whispered. His eyes flooded with rage, and the bottom fell out of Abilene’s stomach. “Then you’ll pay first,” he growled.

He launched to his feet, pulling her up with him, all prior tenderness evaporating like mist. He swung her to his front, pulling her back against his chest. One arm clenched her around the waist, the other snaked around her neck, tightening and cutting off her air. No longer was he shielding her with his body. She now stood between him and Major Taylor, who aimed a rather scary-looking gun right at her chest.

She watched Major Taylor’s smirk fade into a frown. “No,” he whispered. His gun hand fell to the floor with a clunk, and his eyes rolled back into his head. “Abilene.” Her name slipped out of his lips as he fell unconscious, his face hitting the floor with an audible smack.

At the sound of Abilene’s name on Major Taylor’s lips, her patient’s arms jerked, as though the reminder of their familiarity with each other was horrifying to him. The arm around her throat tightened even more, and black dots crowded her vision.

“Oh, yes,” he laughed without humor, “you will pay.”

Her world went black.

• • •

She was a part of it. Eli looked at the man who had ruined him forever and then at the unconscious woman who, for a few seconds, had made him feel hope. For the first time in years.

She was just like everyone else he’d ever encountered: a betrayer.

A part of him still refused to belief that this woman slumped in his arms had any connection to the Tormentor. It was too cruel. Just as he had found her, to discover this?

Found her
? He frowned. What the hell was that supposed to mean? He hadn’t been
searching
for her.

She’s a stranger. She’s nothing to you
.

The Voice countered:
The One.

He groaned as he heaved her dead weight onto his shoulder in a fireman’s hold. To hell with that!

His eyes scanned the closet and lit upon a pile of scrubs. With one hand he grabbed a pair of pants and pulled them on, securing the woman’s weight to his shoulder with his other hand pressed firmly to her backside. The pants were tight on his thighs, and the hems hit him just below his calves. He looked like some caveman-like character out of
Lil’ Abner,
complete with woman over shoulder, but it could not be helped.

He strode to the prone form of Major Taylor — he could now call him by his true name — and kicked him in the face. He considered ending him right now, but his desire to see the Tormentor’s fear as he realized Eli was going to kill him prevented him.

“I’m coming back for you, you son of a bitch,” he promised, then walked through the closet door and out into the hall.

This could get tricky. Staff members were sure to walk the hallways, and the sight of a half-naked man toting an unconscious woman was going to raise some red flags.

He craned his neck to the side, his ears taking in all sounds, even those a normal human could not hear. He could hear the air circulating in the vents. A fly buzzing down the hall to his left. The refrigeration unit in the vending machine to his right kicking on. Even water dripping in what he assumed was a bathroom on the floor above. He heard not one sound that would indicate human presence in the building.

He grimaced, unnerved. His enhanced hearing capabilities had not failed him in the eight years since he’d tasted that damned —

She stirred, moaning. He adjusted his load and steeled his nerves. He would just proceed as though trouble lurked around every corner; then his assessment of the facility being empty, right or wrong, mattered not.

He moved forward, scanning each door, finding only empty rooms on the other side of the little rectangular windows.

What kind of a research facility had no staff?

A front. That’s what kind of operation would be devoid of patients and staff. This building was here to hide
him
.

He increased his pace, certain now that no one was here to stop his escape.

His cargo moved again, more conscious now. He tightened his grip.

“Let me go!”

He snorted. “How do we get out of here?”

She wriggled, causing him to have to readjust his grip.

“I’m not going anywhere with you!” She began to pound his back with her fists and aimed a kick at him. He grunted at the kick and dropped her to her feet. She staggered back and blinked up into his face.

He leaned forward. “You’re coming with me. Now, you can come easily, or I can put you out. You decide.”

She swayed where she stood. “Please,” she whimpered. “Please, don’t do this.” One tear traced down her cheek. Her knees crumpled, and he caught her as she lost consciousness again.

His gut clenched. Her plea was identical to what the Tormentor had elicited from him over and over.

The Voice whispered again,
The One
.

He gritted his teeth. One thing was for certain: her involvement in his repeated torture deserved punishment. And he was going to mete it out.

He spotted the front exit.

He made the choice for Abilene. “We’re outta here.”

• • •

Abilene became aware of the constant hum of a car’s engine. Before she could utter a sound, she began to remember. Saving a stranger who did not feel like a stranger. His miraculous recovery. His weight on top of her. His head lowering to brush his lips against hers.

She shivered.
Delicious
.

She stiffened, remembering what had come after.

Sick fear made her sit up straight. The man who had abducted her was watching her out of the corner of his eye. “Who are you?” she blurted.

“You know who I am.” His tone was scathing. “You probably know more about me than I know about myself.”

“I think there must be some mistake,” she began. “Who exactly do you think
I
am?”

“Not gonna work, Abilene,” he gritted, using her name like a blow.

“How do you — ”

He cut her off. “I heard
him
say it, remember?” The car bounced as he pulled off onto a side road, then onto the shoulder. The bouncing intensified off road. He stopped the car. “Just after you admitted to me that he is your boss.” He looked at her as though he were waiting for her to confess to something.

She shrugged, at a loss. “I’m sorry. I don’t understand — I don’t even know what you were doing there — ”

He got out of the car, slamming the door behind him. He came around to her side, opened her door, and offered her a hand out. She stared at it in bemusement, and he jerked it behind his back, a look of chagrin crossing his face. Without saying a word, he turned on his heel and moved to the bushes, twisting branches off and gathering them into his arms.

What the hell was that? Manners
?

She got out of the car on her own power and scanned their location, seeing a tight cluster of houses about half a mile away.

He seemed to pluck the thought from her head. “Don’t even try it.” He spoke without turning to look at her, continuing to collect branches as he walked. “I’ll catch you before you make it a hundred feet.”

He returned to the car with his arms full, and began placing the branches around the vehicle. Right before her eyes the car seemed to melt into the landscape. She gulped. If she had to be kidnapped, she much preferred an inexperienced idiot, not G.I. Joe.

He finished his blind, then moved to her, grabbing her hand and setting off in the direction of the houses. She dug in her heels.