Act of Mercy Read online

  That meant everything. The past meant nothing.

  He just wanted the doctor safe. He didn’t want her blood on his hands. They were stained enough for a lifetime. And now Bertrand was onto her. Jimmy could smell the suspicion all over him as he’d entered the cell to find Mercy there. He could smell something else on him. His scent had changed over the months. No longer did the man smell human. And Jimmy knew he’d been a threat before. Now he was even more dangerous.

  He was probably dosing himself with the same drugs he’d been giving Jimmy and the others. They were meant to change up their already mutated DNA.

  If the redheaded doctor was smart, she’d run and not look back. He had a feeling Dr. Mercy Deluca would take the path of stupid, and not for lack of brains either. Out of a sense of right and wrong.

  Dumbest smart person he’d ever met, and he knew Striker.

  Besides, he knew something else about her.

  Something he’d refrained from telling her during their talks. Yes, he’d told her of his PSI-team mates, under the guise of them being brothers because they were like family. He’d left out the main part. The one where Jimmy had dreamed the tiny doctor and Duke, his old teammate, would meet and that destiny had a whole lot in store for them.

  That was if PSI didn’t accidently kill her first. Duke wouldn’t hurt her. Jimmy knew it in his bones, but the others might if they found her first. They wouldn’t share an instant connection with her like Duke would. And there would be hell to pay if anyone hurt her—Jimmy wouldn’t have to extract it.

  Duke would.

  And pissing off Duke was a very bad idea.

  Chapter Five

  Mercy’s hand shook as she tried to unlock her car door. It took her four tries before she was able to enter. The parking garage of the Corporation was only half full because it was Friday and already just past the end of the day. She wished it had people in it. As it was, she felt isolated and kept checking her mirrors to see if Bertrand was near or watching her. She was sure he’d pop up behind her in the back seat, as crazy as it sounded. He had that off-putting vibe about him. One that said if he hadn’t chosen the path of deranged scientist, he’d have gone with serial killer.

  The more she thought on it, the more she realized he taken the path of both—serial killer scientist.

  Dr. Bertrand had her in his crosshairs. He always had and now she’d given him reason to be suspicious of her. He’d never stayed so close to her at work before. Often, he seemed happy to be rid of her. After walking in and finding her by Jimmy’s side, he’d escorted her rather roughly from the cellblock and grilled her with questions.

  He then spent the next two hours hovering over her as she tinkered around one of the scanners she knew a service order had been placed on. Thankfully, she’d had the foresight to break the damn thing to start with.

  His beady gaze had lingered on her, making her skin crawl. And he began to stand too close, invading her space, his hot breath moving over her cheek. She could still smell the foulness that had come from his mouth. The man must have eaten something horrid for lunch—that or evil just smelled bad naturally.

  Mercy was proud of herself. She’d not cracked under pressure. She never let on why she’d really been in the facility on what was to be her day off. Jimmy needed her to stay strong, to avoid folding and giving in, like she’d so desperately wanted to do.

  You didn’t fool anyone.

  She knew as much. But she’d not broken cover either. Still, it was just a matter of time before she went missing as well. Others had. She’d found a group of encrypted files on past employees. Next to their names was the word terminated and the extra information she uncovered made her realize they meant it in the literal since of the word.

  They’d been killed.

  She wanted to speed away and never look back, but she couldn’t do that. Jimmy and the others like him were depending on her even if Jimmy didn’t realize it.

  She couldn’t believe he wanted her to abandon him and run. What did he take her for?

  “Go home, pack a bag and be ready to make your move,” she said, speaking to herself in the car as it did its best to warm. “Free him this weekend. It’s now or never.”

  The only problem with her current plan was, she didn’t exactly have one. She’d done what she’d set out to do. She’d gotten all the files sent to Jimmy’s contact. Beyond that, she hadn’t planned anything. She was hardly a covert agent or a master spy. She was just someone who loved science and hated seeing what others had twisted it into. No decent person would stand by and watch what she had seen without trying to help in some manner.

  In her mind, Mercy had built up this notion that once the information she’d gathered was sent off to the faceless people Jimmy swore would help, that they’d sweep in and instantly make it all better. That hadn’t been the case. She’d sent the information off a week ago.

  No white knights had arrived.

  She was on her own.

  She’d just assumed that once the files were sent, everything would simply fix itself. That wasn’t the case. Jimmy was near death. Bertrand was onto her and she was no closer to getting the test subjects freed than she’d been months earlier.

  It seemed like it had been for nothing.

  “You can’t stop something the size of the Corporation,” she whispered.

  Panic rushed through her.

  What had she done?

  What if Bertrand killed Jimmy because of her?

  What if they came after her?

  Stop.

  Breathe deep and calm down.

  Her commute home took even longer than normal. She missed two turns because she was having trouble concentrating. She probably shouldn’t have been behind the wheel at all, but she didn’t have much choice. Concern for Jimmy and the others consumed her. She hated leaving them there, but she couldn’t stay. Bertrand had even followed her to the main lobby, where she’d retrieved her badge and then left.

  He’d be far too suspicious if she showed back up tonight. She had to be smart. Plus, she had to believe he didn’t know the truth that she’d turned on them. It was the only way she was going to be able to carry on.

  She found a parking spot in front of her building, which seemed like the luckiest thing she’d had happen all year, and then hurried inside. She’d spent time in New York and found it often easier to drive around there than the heart of Paris. Thankfully, the Corporation was on the outlying area of the city. Not the center.

  She made it up to her apartment without having to stop for conversation with her landlady, who often seemed to watch for Mercy’s arrival.

  She hurried and showered, needing the feel of Bertrand’s touch removed from her. Her thoughts ran to Jimmy and the other test subjects. She had to figure out a way to get back into the building tomorrow. He’d not make it through the weekend. Not with the way Bertrand was acting. Jamming Jimmy’s cell door would only buy him so much time and the clock was ticking.

  And the Corporation had already moved the other test subjects without warning, and as far as she could tell, with no advance notice in place. Something had tipped them off.

  She wondered if it was her actions.

  Mercy knew sleep would refuse to come. As she lay there, staring at the wall, her gaze went to the framed DNA sequence of the “perfect man”. As always, when she really paid attention to it, a light buzz seemed to start deep in her. She couldn’t explain it. Maybe it was excitement over the strands pictured. She did love science.

  But it felt like something more.

  A connection.

  Her body began to tingle as she tried to imagine what the DNA’s owner looked like. He was surely handsome. She closed her eyes, her hand skimming down her body. She’d never been one to bother with pleasing herself. Seemed a silly thing to stop and devote time to. The more she looked at the framed picture, the more her hand slinked downwards.

  She was always so busy with her career that simple carnal pleasures eluded her. She slippe
d her hand under her panties and touched her mound, feeling wanton and free. Already aroused, the addition of her fingers on her swollen bud made her breath catch. In her mind, she pictured the owner of the DNA. He was tall, muscular with broad shoulders and a body worthy of study. Dark hair and a deep voice. Not to mention pleasing in the equipment area.

  She tweaked her bud, rubbing it, arching her back, imagining her dream man there, in her, filling her and pushing her body closer and closer to the edge of bliss. Mercy bit her lower lip, grinding harder against her hand. She exploded and shook, her gaze returning to the framed DNA.

  Wow. I really do need to get laid. That is, if I survive the weekend.

  Chapter Six

  “Hurry the hell up,” Duke said, standing back against the wall of the small café. The place felt too small—that, or Duke was just too big. He wasn’t sure. He did know they didn’t have time for this shit. They hadn’t had time to stop and eat either, but no one had listened to him. He’d been outvoted by three hungry shifters. Apparently, James could wait to be saved when alphas required sustenance.

  Good to know everyone’s priorities were on the mark.

  He could only hope if he were in need of their help, it was after they’d already had a big meal or he’d be screwed too. Corbin had tried to stress that since arriving in France and securing a base of operations, they’d learned the target had left for the day and would not be back in until late.

  Still. They should be there. Not in a café.

  Boomer downed another pastry near the entrance to the café and licked his fingers. Several women in the café watched the action as if it were soft-core porn. One of the women squirmed in her seat and the shifter in Duke picked up on the scent of her arousal. Boomer glanced lazily in her direction, as he too was picking up on the smell.

  Duke said nothing, though his scowl spoke volumes. Striker had found groupies as well and the team had only been there long enough to order coffee and some breakfast.

  A tall brunette approached Duke, her hips swaying like she wanted to entice him. She was pleasant enough on the eyes, but he was having a hard time getting the image of the target out of his head. The doctor’s quirky smile stuck with him, almost burning into his brain.

  He wanted the doctor, not some random woman offering him sex.

  The woman before him spoke and he understood nothing she said since it was in French. Shaking his head, he gave her an “I’ve got nothing here” look.

  She eased closer, placing her hand on his chest. Normally, his cock would have wanted to come out and play. He wasn’t one to pass up the offer of sex from a beautiful woman. Neither he nor his cock were taking the bait.

  Fuck. France broke me.

  I hate France.

  He took hold of her wrist lightly and removed her hand from his chest. He looked past her at Striker who was bent, allowing some random woman to lick his ear. “We’re done. We need to go.”

  The woman before Duke grinned. “American?”

  He nodded.

  She pushed against him. “You are very handsome.”

  “I know,” he said, looking for Corbin. No sense denying what he knew to be true. Women liked the way he looked. He’d gotten used to that fact over the years. And right now, he could care what anyone thought of him. He wanted to get to the doctor, and James, of course. He spotted Corbin and lifted his arm. “Let’s go.”

  The woman tried harder to tempt him. Duke felt nothing but the urge to get the hell out of the café and get eyes on the target. The door to the café opened and the bell chimed, signaling someone had entered. Boomer and Striker were blocking his line of sight to the door. Duke sniffed the air, the smell of the café changing instantly. It went from coffee grounds and baked goods to deeply erotic in just seconds. Every part of him responded, tightening, demanding he take note.

  That smell.

  It was divine.

  Mine.

  The wolf in him rose rapidly, so much so that he thought for a moment he’d lose control and shift forms. He had to fight to maintain human form. It would not be good to expose all the humans in the café to what he really was. Plus, with his mood he’d possibly eat one or hump their leg—he was that horny.

  Perplexed as to why he’d have the urge to claim something, he closed his eyes a moment, the smell only increasing around him. Thoughts of red hair and pale creamy skin assailed him. He could almost feel the tightness of a woman’s body wrapped around his cock as he thrust up and into her. It felt real. She felt real. Whoever she was. Some woman he couldn’t see fully in his mind but one he was sure he’d fucked before.

  No.

  The realization came over him that this wasn’t a woman he’d actually had sex with but rather remnants of a dream. His pulse sped as he thought about nodding off on the plane and waking to find he’d apparently had a sex dream he didn’t remember.

  A dream that he spoke the target’s name in.

  The scent in the café made him think of the dream—what tiny fragments that came to him. The target—Mercy Deluca.

  Mine.

  You all right? Corbin asked on their shared mental path.

  I’m so far from all right I don’t have words for it.

  His cock came to life and the woman before him had the nerve to reach down and cup him. He caught her wrist, his gaze going to her. “Listen, lady, I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but I’m not interested.”

  “You feel interested,” she said, her hand still on his groin. “Very interested.”

  He had to pry her hand away. The idea of fucking her held no appeal. In fact, the more she remained close and the stronger the smell in the café became, the more the thought of bedding the brunette nauseated him. He wanted to growl and scare her away. His body wasn’t for her. It was for the other—the one with the scent he couldn’t resist.

  What the hell was wrong with him? His head was seriously screwed up. Some wires must have gotten crossed in his brain. He needed to right himself and fast before he laid claim to some poor stranger because his wolf couldn’t get its shit straight.

  He needed air and he needed to be out of the café.

  He stepped out from near the wall and looked around, hoping to find the source of the amazing scent. All he found was Striker accepting tiny pieces of paper with what Duke could only guess were phone numbers written on them.

  Corbin approached. “You good?”

  “I’m fine.” He wasn’t, but there was little point in dwelling on what couldn’t be changed. “Let’s go.”

  Corbin glanced at the brunette. “She looks eager.”

  “And then some,” said Duke, heading for the door, wanting to find the target and be done with any other distractions.

  Gulping, he fought the urge to look back into the café. Whatever was wrong with him wasn’t going to be fixed if he kept letting his senses rule his actions. They were out of joint. He just wasn’t sure how he had to go about righting them.

  He’d worry about that later.

  He had a mission now.

  He and Corbin exited the café and walked down the side street, to where they’d left their van. Boomer and Striker ran up behind them, both shoving slips of papers and napkins into their pockets.

  They’d come on a mission to save James, and those two idiots were going to hook up and have booty calls.

  Morons.

  “You have got to be kidding me,” said Corbin as they neared their van. It was blocked in by a small economy car. The car had boldly parked right next to them, in the driving lane, making it impossible for them to move.

  Striker elbowed Duke. “Shall we?”

  Duke glanced at the tiny car and nodded. “Oh, we shall.”

  Boomer laughed. “Try not to be too mean. It could have been an emergency situation.”

  Corbin leaned against a lamppost looking bored. “At the café? What, was there a threat of them running out of pastries?”

  “Point taken,” Boomer said, stepping back and folding his ar
ms over his chest. “Carry on.”

  Striker went to the front of the car and Duke went to the back. Bending, Duke eyed Striker doing the same. The metal was cool to the touch as Duke slipped his hands under the backside of the car. He found a good hold spot and waited, knowing Striker would do the same.

  “Ready,” Striker said.

  They lifted the vehicle with ease, suspending it a few feet off the ground. “Where do you want it, Captain?” asked Duke.

  Corbin was laughing too hard to comment. He waved a hand, signaling he didn’t care.

  “We should take it in the café and ask whose it is,” said Striker, making their captain laugh more. “Then teach ’em how to actually park.”

  “Another reason I hate the French,” muttered Duke.

  Boomer eased up and tapped the hood of the car. “Good news is, the French probably hate you too.”

  “If they don’t, they soon will.” Duke nodded his head towards a small alleyway. It barely looked big enough to fit the car. “How about there?”

  Striker’s wicked laugh said he got the plan perfectly and was on board. “I’ll lead.”

  They carried the car a half a block down, paying no mind to the weight of it. Striker went in first with his end. They had to work a bit to actually get the thing to fit. It would be scratched to shit and missing side mirrors, but it would be out of their way to move the van. And impossible for the owner of it to get it out.

  Perfect.

  “Hey, did you smell anything different in the café?” asked Duke.

  “Food. Lots of it and women. Lots of those too.”

  “Never mind.”

  They set it down. Striker leapt on to the hood, denting it with his weight. He flashed a wide smile and lifted a hand in the air as if he were the victor of some game they’d been playing. “That’s gonna leave mark!”

  “Now can we get to the target?” Duke asked, his mind going back to the redheaded doctor.

  Striker hopped down and stood next to Duke. “Killjoy.”