Penumbra (3 page)

“A name that has over thirty SIU and Federation deaths attributed to it. And I don't particularly want Sam's name added to that list.” His voice was tight with the anger coursing through him. True, he'd wanted to lose her as a partner, but he certainly hadn't wanted to throw her to the lions, and that's basically what his brother had done. She would have been safer remaining his partner than taking this mission.

Stephan grimaced. “Nor do I, brother. Believe me. But we need to uncover the source of these clones. We need to draw Sethanon out, and we need to uncover whether or not he is involved as deeply with Hopeworth as we suspect. And the truth is, she's the best bait we have to achieve those aims.”

“What about our source in Hopeworth? Has he heard any whispers about Sethanon?”

Stephan shook his head. “It's not a code name the military uses.”

“Kazdan knew who he was, so others must. It's just a matter of uncovering the various layers of his organization.”

“Which is why Samantha has been assigned to Wetherton. We know he's a clone. We know his name was on that list she got from Kazdan. We need to know what that list was, and what Wetherton had promised to do in return for life eternal. And why the original was deemed expendable enough to kill and clone and not directly exploit.”

“But that still puts her too close to Hopeworth. That could be extremely dangerous.”

Stephan leaned back in his chair and regarded his brother steadily. “Only if, as you presume, she is a product of Hopeworth itself.”

“You've seen the initial reports from O'Hearn. You've seen the coding. Whatever Sam is, she's definitely not a product of natural selection.”

“Yet it was Sethanon who assigned Kazdan to monitor her every move. Sethanon who appears to know just who and what Samantha is. You noted that yourself. Couldn't that mean he's responsible for her creation?”

Possible, but not likely. Gabriel didn't doubt that Sethanon wanted to use her, but if the man had been responsible for her creation, why would he take the risk of releasing her?

“Sam had a military microchip in her side,” Gabriel pointed out. “The same sort of chip that we found in both the Generation 18 rejects and in Allars.” She was also afraid of Hopeworth. Though she had never said anything, he could feel her fear as clearly as if it were his own.

“And yet our source in Hopeworth can find no record of her, though he can find records on every other reject.”

“Maybe because her project was destroyed by a fire years ago.”

“A fire would never destroy every scrap of information. Nor could it erase every memory.”

“And yet everyone says that Penumbra
was
destroyed that completely.”

“People still remember the project, Gabriel. They just don't remember her.”

Mary Elliot, the nurse who'd worked on the project, apparently did, but she was just one of many, and a woman with a faulty memory at that. Partially thanks to Alzheimer's, and partially thanks to the military's habit of “readjusting” memories. Gabriel shifted restlessly in the seat. “What if she isn't a reject? What if she's something else entirely?”

Stephan raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

He didn't really know. It was just a feeling. The extent of Sam's memory loss, the depth to which the truth appeared to be buried and the fact that someone was willing to bomb the SIU in order to destroy her test results—it all spoke of intent. It suggested that someone, somewhere, was protecting her from her past, whatever that might be.

He actually doubted that it was Hopeworth trying to conceal who she was, even if they were her creators. The military wasn't that subtle. Besides, if Sam
was
one of their creations, they would never have let her go—especially not with the potential she was now showing.

“Look,” Gabriel said, somewhat impatiently. “All I'm saying is that if Sethanon feared her enough to place a watch on her, we should not risk using her as bait in an attempt to catch the man.”

“We don't even know if, in fact, it is a man we are after.”

Gabriel leaned forward and glared at his twin's altered features. It was in moments like this—moments when he almost wanted to punch the cold smile from his brother's face—that Stephan's ability to shapeshift into the form of any male he touched became a problem. It was harder to restrain the urge to hit him when he wasn't wearing his own face. “Damn it, Stephan, don't play word games with me!”

Something flickered through his twin's blue eyes. Anger perhaps. Or regret. “Do you, or do you not, agree that we must learn more about Sethanon?”

“Yeah, but—”

“And do you, or do you not,” Stephan continued, his voice soft but relentless, “agree that Sethanon's interest in Sam might be the lever we need to draw him out of the shadows?”

Gabriel rubbed his forehead. This was one battle he wasn't going to win—not that he ever won many against Stephan. “At the first hint of danger, I'm going in.”

“Samantha can take care of herself. She's proven that time and time again.”

But this was different. This was leaving her roped, tied and blindfolded in front of an express train. “I won't see her harmed.”

Stephan smiled. “And here I thought you didn't care for her.”

“I've never said that. All I've ever said is that I don't want her as a partner. That I don't want to see her dead.”

“Have you ever considered the fact that this fear of losing partners is irrational, and that maybe you should seek psychiatric help for it?”

“Considered it? Yes. Acknowledge it? Yes. Am I going to seek psychiatric help? No.” He met his brother's stony gaze with one of his own. “If I wanted to talk to anyone, I'd talk to our father.”

“Because, of course, you couldn't talk to your brother.” Stephan's voice was almost bitter.

Almost.

“My brother has a tendency to put the needs of the Federation and the SIU above the needs of everyone else—including his brother.”

Stephan didn't immediately comment, just leaned forward and picked up a folder from the desk. “Here's the file on your new partner.”

Gabriel ignored the offered folder and stared at his twin through narrowed eyes. “What do you mean, new partner?”

“I've told you before. All field agents, whether SIU or Federation, now work in pairs. There have been too many murder attempts of late to risk solo missions.”

“How many times do I have to say it?
I don't want a partner!
” What was his brother trying to prove?

“Then you'll remain at your desk and leave the field work to the agents in your charge.”

He was tempted, very tempted, to do just that. But both he and Stephan knew that being confined for any length of time would make him stir-crazy.

Besides, he was more valuable to the SIU and the Federation in the field.

“Who have you assigned me?”

Stephan dropped the folder on the desk and leaned back in his chair. Though there was no emotion on his face, Gabriel could feel his twin's amusement.

“James Illie.”

Who was the State Police officer they'd recruited after he'd made a series of spectacular arrests—arrests that involved one of the biggest vampire crime gangs in the city. He was good, no doubt about it.

The only trouble was, the man was a womanizer who was always on the lookout for his next conquest.

“It won't work.” And Stephan knew it.

“Then make it work. And don't try dumping Illie in the dungeons. He'll bring in the unions the minute you try.”

Wonderful.
“Is this all you called me in here for?”

Stephan smiled. “No. There's been a break-in at the Pegasus Foundation that we've been asked to investigate.”

“The Pegasus Foundation?” Gabriel frowned, trying to recall what he knew of the organization. “They won a military contract recently, didn't they?”

“To develop a stealth device for military vehicles, yes. But whoever broke in wasn't concerned about stealth devices.”

“Then what were they after?”

“That's something you'll have to find out. All I've been told is that the person or persons involved managed to get past several security stations, three laser alarms and numerous cameras. It was only due to the fact that the intruder set a lab on fire that they were even aware someone had slipped their net.”

“So we're saying that the person who started the fire is someone who can become both invisible and insubstantial? Is such a thing even possible?”

“We've never seen it before,” Stephan answered. “But then, we've never seen a lot of the things we are now encountering, so who knows?”

“Was it just the lab that was destroyed?”

“That I don't know. They're not giving much away—not over the phone, anyway.”

No real surprise there, given how easily phone conversations could be hacked these days. “So why were we called in? The Pegasus Foundation has more military ties than we have agents. Why not ask them to investigate?”

“It was the military that asked
us
to investigate.” Stephan hesitated. “They asked specifically for you and your partner.”

“So they want Sam.” But if the military didn't know anything about her, why had they specifically asked for her to be included in the investigation?

“Who signed the request?”

“A General Frank Lloyd.”

As Alice would say, curiouser and curiouser. “Sam met Lloyd at Han's.” She'd been wary of the general and convinced they'd meet again. “You have to warn her about the military's interest.”

“No, I won't.” Stephan hesitated. “And neither will you.”

Like hell he wouldn't. It was one thing to let her go; it was another to leave her blind. He crossed his arms. “What time is the Pegasus Foundation expecting us?”

Stephan glanced at his watch. “You're to meet with the director—Kathryn Douglass—at four thirty.”

It was nearly four now. Then Gabriel frowned. “Kathryn Douglass? Why does that name sound familiar?”

“Because her name is on that list Kazdan gave to Sam.”

A list that had marked potential clones and vampires, as well as assassination possibilities. “So which one is she? Clone, vampire or potential dead meat?”

“That we can't say, as there's no note beside her name,” Stephan said. “Illie's requisitioned a car and is waiting out front.”

Gabriel met his twin's gaze. “Thought I'd skip without him, huh?”

Stephan's smile touched his eyes for the first time. “I know you, brother. I know the way your mind works. Don't ever forget that.”

Then he'd know Illie wasn't going to be a fixture in Gabriel's life for very long. If he'd wanted a partner, he'd have kept Sam.

“Then you'll know precisely what I'm thinking now.”

Stephan's smile widened. “Yeah, and it's not polite to abuse a family member like that.”

Although it was when your brother was being such a bastard.

Stephan's smile faded. “Keep away from her, Gabriel. She has a job to do, and I don't want you getting in the way.”

“What I do in my own time is my business, not yours,” Gabriel said, voice flat. “I'm warning you, don't ever try to control my personal life.”

Stephan raised an eyebrow. “You have an obligation to both the SIU and the Federation, just as I have.”

“Yeah, right.” Gabriel turned and headed for the door. The Federation and the SIU could go hang if it meant letting Sam walk into a trap out of no more than ignorance.

He may have succeeded in getting rid of her as a partner, but that didn't mean he wanted her dead.

“Gabriel, I'm warning you. Leave her alone.”

Gabriel stopped with his hand on the doorknob and glanced over his shoulder, meeting his brother's gaze. “Or you'll what? Censure me? Bust me down to field agent again? Do it. I don't really give a damn.”

“This could be our one chance to draw Sethanon out!”

“That doesn't justify sending her in
blind.
”

“Gabriel, I'm giving you a direct order. Do not go near her. Do not warn her.”

“Then you'd better get my file out and add the black mark to it now, because that's one order I have no intention of obeying.”

And he slammed the door open and stalked from the room.

S
AM GLANCED AT HER WATCH
as she entered her office. It was just after four. She had an hour before she was due at the labs to have the studs attached and be shown how they worked.

All she really wanted was to go home—not that she currently had a home to go
to.
Her Brighton apartment had sold almost as soon as she'd placed it on the market. The new owners had gushed over its size and closeness to the beach. That it had been bombed twice in recent months was a fact she and the real estate agents had failed to mention.

She slapped the folder on the desk and sat down. “Computer on.”

A pink fluff ball with chicken legs appeared onscreen. “Afternoon, sweetness.”

“Afternoon, Iz. Any messages from that useless real estate agent of mine?”

“Not one.”

Typical.
Two days ago he'd promised to get right back to her with the latest housing list. The man was either extremely forgetful or was tired of her nagging and trying to get rid of her.

Probably the latter,
she thought ruefully. She leaned back in her chair and wearily rubbed her eyes. Maybe it would have been wiser to wait until she'd found somewhere else to live before she'd sold the apartment—as Gabriel had informed her the one time this week that he'd deigned to grace her broom closet with his presence.

And yet she didn't really regret her actions, even if staying at hotels was costing a fortune. The apartment had never truly felt like hers—maybe because it was something she had been given rather than earned. Or maybe because the reasons for the gift had never really been clear.

Or perhaps it was the cop in her that couldn't get past the idea that, in the end, such gifts usually proved costly.

She reached forward and picked up the folder Stephan had given her. Inside she found a series of photos—Wetherton's friends, family and immediate associates.

She shuffled through them until she found one of Wetherton. He was small, round and balding. Spud material, definitely. And yet, there was something in his brown eyes that was not quite right—an odd sort of blankness that chilled her.

She threw the photo back down onto the desk. At least this assignment would save her some money, if nothing else. And she could still use the days to continue her search for a home.

Although, as her real estate agent had said—and more than once—if she weren't so particular, she'd have something by now.

Someone knocked on the door. It opened before she could answer, revealing Gabriel.

“AD Stern. Fancy seeing you again so soon.” She couldn't help the sarcastic note in her voice. The only time he'd ever bothered crowding into her closet was when he had some inane task for her to complete. But he wasn't her partner now, wasn't her boss, so why was he here?

He crossed his arms, leaning a shoulder against the door frame. His presence filled her small office in much the same manner as his frame did the doorway. With any other man, it might have felt threatening. With Gabriel, it felt cautious, almost aloof.

“Stephan told me about your new assignment.”

There was a touch of concern in his rich voice. She raised an eyebrow. “And?”

“And he hasn't told you everything.”

Like
that
was a surprise. “That's because he works on a need-to-know basis. Like someone else I know.”

Annoyance flickered through Gabriel's warm hazel eyes. “I've never let you walk into an assignment blind.”

She snorted softly. “Yeah, because you've never
given
me an assignment. Only desk work.”

He at least had the grace to look guilty, if only for a second or two. “Look, I just came down here to warn you, not to argue.”

“Then warn me and leave.” Before she asked him to stay, simply to warm the empty coldness in her office. In her life.

“Fair enough.” He hesitated for a moment, studying her with a slight frown. “He omitted two major facts. One, we believe that Hopeworth is the source of the Wetherton clone, and two, we think Sethanon may be linked to both Wetherton and Hopeworth.”

And Stephan was using her as bait to draw them out. She'd been right. The vampire set to attack Wetherton wasn't the only patsy in this situation. “Why does he think my presence will affect Sethanon's actions?”

“Because Sethanon placed Kazdan in your life to keep watch over you both personally and professionally. And because Sethanon had to have been the source for the birth certificate Kazdan gave you. He seems to know more about your history than anyone else. And that it implies a long-term interest.”

Or long-term responsibility. She rubbed her arms uneasily. Though she didn't want to mention it to Gabriel, the mysterious, hirsute stranger she knew only as Joe had admitted to giving the birth certificate to her—yet had never explained how it had come to be in Jack's possession. And when she asked him, point blank, if he was Sethanon, he had said that Sethanon was not a name he'd ever given himself. But what did that mean? That other people had called him that? Was Sethanon her secret ally or not? But all she said now was, “Sethanon is little more than a name. How the hell am I supposed to draw him out when no one even knows what he looks like?”

“Stephan's hoping he might try to snatch you.”

Yet if he'd intended that, why not do so before now? He'd had ample opportunities, especially when Jack was her partner. Few people would have missed her back then save Jack, and he'd been Sethanon's right-hand man.

“I doubt the man would be fool enough to try it himself.”

“No, but the transmitter you're getting also acts as a tracking signal. Stephan hopes to trace you to Sethanon's headquarters, at the very least.”

And then what? A quick raid in the hope of flushing out the upper echelons of his organization? Stephan was a fool if he thought it would be so easy. They were talking about someone who had successfully covered his tracks for years.

“How deep are Wetherton's ties to Hopeworth?”

“Very, if Hopeworth is in fact responsible for his cloning.”

“It doesn't make sense, you know. Why clone someone like Wetherton? From what I've read of the man, he's never been considered prime ministerial material.”

“But David Flint was. And remember, Sethanon has already tried to replace him with a clone.”

Which suggested that if the clones
were
coming from Hopeworth, then Sethanon was in control of the base. And yet, if that were true, why would Hopeworth be showing interest in her if Sethanon already knew what she was and was monitoring her? And what of Joe, who seemed to be actively protecting her from Hopeworth? If he were Sethanon and in charge of Hopeworth, why protect her from them? There was too much conflicting information to make heads or tails of it. “So this whole assignment is simply a setup to discover who is pulling Wetherton's strings?”

“Setup? No.” Gabriel hesitated slightly. “But is that one of its goals? Yes. We need to uncover who is behind Wetherton, and stop this whole clone replacement business before it goes any further up the government ladder.”

“Meaning Wetherton's bait, and so am I. So what? No matter what the dangers, it's sure as hell better than spending the rest of my life in this broom closet.” She watched the impact of her words hit him, watched the regret and annoyance flit through his expression, then added, “And I'll be careful. Anything else, Assistant Director?”

He hesitated again, then shook his head. “Keep in touch,” he said softly.

A hint of regret was in his eyes and she steeled herself against it. She'd tried hard enough. Now it was his turn. “Why? I thought it was your life's ambition to get rid of me.”

“I never said I wanted you out of my life.”

But he'd never said he wanted her in it, either. He had never truly thrust out the hand of friendship. Everything she knew about him she'd learned during the course of their work. And he'd never attempted to extend the boundaries of their working relationship, despite the fact that there was obviously some sort of attraction between them.

Whether that attraction would have led to anything more than a night or two in the sack was anyone's guess. If she were the betting type, she would have said yes. But it takes two to tango, and Gabriel was having no part of it.

“Why do you think it's safer to have me as a friend than as a partner?” she asked. “I know you've lost partners, but you've also lost a sister and, I believe, a brother.
Not
being your partner is no protection from death. Not when you, the SIU and the Federation pursue the type of characters for whom dispensing death comes as easily as breathing.”

He stared at her. His face held no emotion, and yet she could sense his unease as clearly as if it were her own. He didn't want to examine his reasoning, didn't want to look closely at his feelings. If he had shut himself off from his twin brother, what made her think she had a hope of cracking his reserve?

She waved a hand before he could answer her question. “Forget it, Gabriel. Call me sometime and we'll go out for coffee or something.”

“I will.” He stared at her a moment longer, his gaze searching her face, as if memorizing her features. Then he turned and walked away.

She picked up the folder and shoved it into her bag. Then she opened her desk drawer, grabbing the few personal items she'd left in there: perfume, the pin Joe had given her, a hairbrush and several scrunchies.

Then she stood and grabbed the coat from the back of her chair. But on the verge of leaving, she hesitated. As much as she'd hated what the broom closet had represented, at least it had been hers—somewhere she could escape to and be safe. A place few people knew existed or could be bothered finding. Whatever happened after the Wetherton assignment, she knew she wouldn't be coming back here. One way or another, her life was about to change.

Whether it was for the good or the bad, she wasn't entirely sure. And right at this moment, she didn't really care. Any sort of change had to be better than stagnating—which was precisely what she'd spent the last few years doing. She'd let Jack take over her life to the extent that she had no life beyond the force. And, in some ways, she'd started to make the same mistake again with the SIU and with Gabriel.

“No more,” she vowed to the emptiness. From now on, she would try to follow her own course, no matter what.

Grabbing her bag, she turned and headed down to the labs.

Gabriel climbed out of the car and slammed the door shut. The headquarters of the Pegasus Foundation was on a huge strip of barren land out in the middle of goddamn nowhere. The main building was square-shaped, draped in black glass that seemed to suck in the light and cast thick shadows over the parking lot and the nearby limp-looking garden.

He took off his sunglasses and looked upward, squinting slightly against the bright sunlight. The building was six stories high, and even from where he stood he could see the radar dishes, antennas and various other bits of apparatus bristling from the roof. But he also caught sight of something else—security, armed with guns. And the uniforms those men were wearing looked a hell of a lot like military uniforms.

Once again, the same question arose. If the military was this involved with Pegasus, then why bring in the SIU? It didn't make sense.

They were clearly being played—but to what ends? Well, he'd never find out by standing here. He rubbed the back of his neck and headed across the parking lot toward two black-glass front doors.

Behind him, the passenger door slammed and footsteps echoed, and Gabriel found himself clenching his fists. He slowly flexed them in an effort to relax. An hour in Illie's company and he was ready to punch the man. Not the best of beginnings.

The glass doors opened. He headed across to security and flashed his badge. “We've an appointment with Director Douglass.”