Wilde Storm Page 12

  Watson scoffed. “Impossible. Perhaps it’s a descendant of hers.”

  One of my eyebrows rose in disbelief. “This coming from someone who’s well over a century old. Either way, this just grew a lot more curious, didn’t it?”

  Watson stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Indeed.”

  Masters and I told Watson our knowledge about Irene Adler. Fictional though it may be, it couldn’t hurt to have as much information as possible before we went in.

  When we finished, Watson looked appalled. “And Sherlock loved her?”

  Masters spoke. “I think there was a lot more to it than love. He admired her. She was tricky, conniving, and brilliant.”

  “I’ll be damned,” Watson murmured before he waved a hand in disgust. “But these are still fictional tales and we should not let ourselves get caught up in things that are not true. I will keep your warnings in the back of my mind, but I do not think we need to worry about your father prostrating himself before her.”

  I didn’t think it was likely either, especially with my mother hanging around, but it was still really strange all of this had led us straight to someone in my father’s past. Granted, his fictional past. But still, weird all the same.

  “So, what do we think? Stake out tonight and go in tomorrow?”

  Masters nodded. “I think that’s wise.”

  Watson agreed and rummaged through the pack to pull out our new clothes. “I trust you came prepared?” he asked Masters.

  My friend didn’t dignify that with a response. He dragged his bag into the room farthest from us. Watson tossed me a pair of leggings and a snug shirt. I caught them mid-air and headed to the bathroom.

  When I walked out a few minutes later, Watson was already dressed head to toe in black. He pulled on a toboggan to cover up his sandy hair. His eyes roamed appreciatively over me and just as I was about to blush, he ruined it. “Go do something with your hair. It looks like you were in a fight.”

  “Jackass,” I muttered and about faced back to the bathroom, his amused laughter following me.

  A quick look in the mirror told me his words were not without merit.

  My hair looked like the love child of Bob Marley and Don King and I wasn’t quite sure how it had gotten that way. Time travel was rough on my do. That and the strange wind that had been circulating through Austin lately. A polite knock and push on the door revealed a tan hand and a brush I accepted gratefully. I pulled the ever present ponytail holder and bobby pins from my pocket and set to work.

  Ten minutes later, I was presentable. The mess had been brushed, which caused mega frizz, but a dousing of cold water laid it down to where I could tightly French braid it and coil it under the best I could. A hat would have to hide the rest. Before I could step out of the bathroom, Watson intercepted and handed me something that looked like a contact case. I accepted it with a strange look at him.

  His face grew sheepish. “I didn’t want to tell you, but your eyes…glow in the dark now.”

  I stared mutely for a second. “The hell?” I asked. I hadn’t noticed that. “When did you notice it?”

  “Last night. I had your father procure these for me, much faster than I expected.”

  “Did he ask why?”

  Sympathy twisted his mouth. “He didn’t have to.”

  I sighed. “Super.” I turned to go back into the bathroom and shut the door behind me. Morbid curiosity got the best of me and I situated myself in front of the mirror and reached over to flip the lights off. A faint neon green light emitted from my eyes, making me look like I’d been dipped in toxic waste.

  “Well…shit,” I whispered to myself. I flipped the light back on and twisted the lid off the contact case. I flipped out one of the contacts and studied it. It looked completely normal. Wetting my fingers with the solution it was in, I picked it up. Shrugging, I placed the contact in my eyes, blinked rapidly, and gasped as a noise emitted and my vision spun rapidly.

  “Watson!” I yelled.

  The door flew open and Watson’s arms wrapped around me as I held on to the sink for dear life.

  “What? Are you okay?”

  I took several deep breaths. “What the hell kind of contacts are these?”

  Watson frowned. “I’m not sure. I told Sherlock what was happening and he produced these. I’m sure they have something in them to prevent the glow from leaking out, but other than that, I didn’t ask a lot of questions.”

  At my watery glare, Watson huffed a laugh. “Penelope, he’s your father and will do anything to ensure your well-being. I didn’t feel like I needed to second guess his handiwork.”

  The spinning slowly subsided and then went away, but I dreaded putting the other one in. Watson helped me stand and I stared at the second contact dubiously.

  “It was probably something coded especially to you. Many things Sherlock creates cause an initial…reaction.” His voice was full of distaste. “It cannot be helped.”

  I decided to treat it like a Band-Aid. I tipped the second one out and let it suction to my eye. My stomach dropped a bit, but there was no spinning sensation. I blew out a relieved breath. “Okay,” I said, more to myself than Watson, “time for the real test.” I faced the mirror and flipped off the light. Nothing was out of the ordinary.

  I could hear Watson’s smile. “Excellent.”

  “Yep,” I said faintly. “Excellent.” I flipped the light back on and peeked in the mirror. My eyes were red-rimmed, but they appeared to be a normal, if a little subdued, green. I thanked my father silently and stepped out of the restroom. It was entirely too small for the both of us.

  Master stood there waiting for us dressed in dark gear. When I first met him, I thought he looked ordinary, yet as I’d gotten to know him, he was anything but ordinary. Highly intelligent and a little bit terrifying, Masters was an asset I would hate to lose. Plus, he was my friend. He wasn’t terribly chatty, but he gave good advice and I could chat with him about some of the classics and other books. Watson was intelligent in a different way, and so smart, sometimes I got lost in his muddle.

  Not that I was a slouch in the brain department, but I didn’t always turn it on. I liked being normal. Doing normal things. Reading, hanging out…all the things a woman my age does. But…ever since I landed in with the Holmes crew, things had been anything but normal. And as I stood staring at my friend strapped down with weapons and gear, I realized this kind of normal was beginning to be okay.

  He gave me a curious look, but I stopped any questions with a smile and small shake of my head.

  “No cabs. No public transportation. There are two small scooters I purchased off Craigslist this afternoon. We use them once and dump them as soon as we’re done. Tomorrow, we’ll find different transportation. I’ll be able to disable the cameras long enough for us to get in, but I can’t guarantee how long they’ll be down. These guys are serious. We’d do well to stay on our toes.”

  “How’d you manage to buy two scooters in just a few hours?”

  Masters rolled his eyes at me. “Watch and learn, kid.”

  Watson checked his watch. “The service elevators get little use at this time, so we’ll take those and meet in the parking garage. Masters, take care of the cameras.”

  “Got it.”

  Watson clapped his hands together and a gleam lit his eyes. “Let’s go.”

  He led us as we made our way down the empty hall. Once we were safely in the garage, Masters led us to the scooters. I had always been a little dubious of crotch rockets, but Masters assured me these weren’t nearly as loud. “Plus, we’re parking three blocks down,” he said. “No one will be the wiser.”

  “No helmets?” I asked.

  Watson got on. “Next time, we’ll wrap your precious little body in bubble wrap. Come on. We don’t have time to screw around.”

  I got on and molded myself to the back of Watson. The inside of my thighs were molded to the outside of his and my arms were wrapped tightly around his waist. “Sorry,” I apologi
zed.

  “Don’t worry about it,” he said in a strangled tone.

  Maybe I should have ridden with Masters. As good as Watson and I were about pretending we weren’t attracted to each other, it was times like this that made me want to scream with the unfairness of it all. If only the situation were a little different. If maybe the only time I was this close to him wasn’t when I was about to go into harms’ way…lots of maybes. Only one life.

  Relax, I told myself. It’s only a couple minutes away. Watson felt like a steel beam against the front of my body. Maybe he needed to relax, too.

  Masters fired up his bike and sped away from us. Perhaps the awkward was too strong for him. Watson started the bike and took it a little bit slower. I appreciated that. Only a few moments later, as soon as I was beginning to relax and enjoy the ride, we arrived at a dirty old bar where several motorcycles were parked. Masters was waiting for us. He’d parked next to them, so Watson pulled in beside him. I climbed off the bike with a grateful heart.

  “Are you sure we’re cool enough to park here?” I asked.

  “If we’re lucky, by the time we get back, these will be stolen,” Masters said.

  I opened my mouth to argue, then shut it. “Huh. That’s some good thinking.”

  Watson chuckled under his breath.

  We avoided most notice on our short walk, and the people who did see us had little use for us. We were sober and looked dangerous. Even the drunkest of them left us alone. When we’d gotten to the back of the building, still out of camera reach, Watson whispered for me to put my toboggan on. I covered my hair with it the best I could. From one of the pockets of his bag, he produced three pair of sunglasses and handed a pair to each of us.

  “We won’t be able to see a thing!” I protested.

  “Just put them on.”

  I slid the glasses over my face, expecting the world to go dark, but it didn’t. Instead, everything took on an amber hue and the details sprang to life. “Weird.” I slid the glasses down my nose and was instantly disappointed by how normal everything looked. “This isn’t night vision.”

  “No,” Watson agreed. “It won’t completely conceal us, but as we pass by, the glasses emit a frequency which will scramble even the most sensitive of cameras.”

  Masters was frowning as he pinched the glasses between two fingers and stared at them suspiciously.

  I snorted with laughter. “I don’t think they’re going to eat you.”

  “All this technology doesn’t concern you?”

  This coming from the guy who just hacked into a hotel’s server to screw with their security cameras. “It’s necessary for the end goal.”

  He thought about that for a moment and slipped them on. “I can agree with that logic.”

  I patted him on his back. “Good.”

  I slid my glasses back on and followed as Watson crept quietly across the parking lot, taking care to stay close to the bushes. When we were only a few feet away from the back entrance to Waterstone, Watson whispered to Masters, telling him to take down the security. He whipped out something that looked to be way too small to be a computer and with a few taps of the keys, we saw the cameras sag as they powered off. “Let’s go. We need to be in the duct area in less than three minutes.”

  At Watson’s incredulous glance, Masters gave him a wide grin and shoved him forward. “Get on it, old man.”

  I felt an answering lunatic grin spread across my face as we hauled ass inside Waterstone. Within seconds, we were in the building and frantically looking for a restroom. Surveillance was not allowed inside a public restroom, but we weren’t so sure this corporation would follow that protocol. Watson made a cradle out of his fingers and boosted me up to where I could loosen one of the ceiling tiles. I silently thanked Watson for all the beatings he’d given me during sparring practice because I was able to pull myself up with minimal effort. Masters boosted Watson up and I scooted out of the way as quietly as I could so he could get in. He put the tile back into place and turned to look at me.

  “Penelope, I need you to lean in and help Masters. I’m going to grab you around the legs so you can pull him up.”

  I blanched. “Why can’t he stand on a toilet?” I hissed.

  His teeth glared white in the dim light. “Because it isn’t high enough. Come on, love. Roll onto your belly.” He pulled a different tile out of the way, presumably the one over the toilet.

  I cursed under my breath as I shoved him over and tunnel crawled over to him on my belly. Masters wasn’t a huge guy, but he had some serious muscle mass on him. He gave me a flat stare when he realized it was going to be me helping him up, but didn’t waste any time. More agile than I thought he’d be, he swiftly hopped on to the toilet and grasped my waiting arms.

  Watson had his face shoved right between my legs and a death grip wrapped around me. I grunted with the effort and Watson began to slide back excruciatingly slow.

  Masters cursed with the beauty of an overtired sailor and basically climbed up me because Watson’s speed was lacking. How he had that much upper body strength I’d never know. Masters’ foot crunched against my ear, leaving me hissing in pain as he continued to let me dangle there like a puppet on a string as he climbed over me. Watson was still moving, and as if things couldn’t get any more awkward or weird, I felt my leggings start the slow descent to a point I could never recover from.

  “Watson,” I hissed, but with his face buried between my thighs, I didn’t think he could hear me.

  “Watson!” I said again in a mild panic as cool air hit the top of my rear end. Masters was finally able to heave himself into the tile and I lay there dangling out of the ceiling like a broken light. His amused chuckle told me more than my underwear was showing.

  “Help,” I whispered.

  Watson’s grip was tight, but his face was no longer buried in never never land. Strong hands crept up to my hips and pulled me all the way in. I lay there for a moment, humiliated beyond belief. Gentle hands pulled my leggings back up and left me with a friendly pat on the ass.

  “Most entertainment I’ve had in a year,” Masters said with a grin.

  “I try.” I sat up and tucked my hair back into my hat, being careful to avoid eye contact with either one of them after that. Masters took the lead. It was surprisingly cool in the vents. Watson whispered he thought it had to do with all the research and technology they had in the building. Whatever it was, I was glad for it. We made our way as silent as possible through the ducts, stopping occasionally to poke a small thin wire with a camera attached to it inside each office. So far, every room was empty. Not surprising. It was past eight p.m. and it was an office building. Most people had probably gone home by five or six. A click and a new hum that hadn’t been there before stopped us in our tracks, or…in our case, our slide.

  “Cameras are back on,” Masters said, sounding impressed.

  “That was quick,” Watson muttered.

  “Keep moving,” I whispered, “so we can hurry up and get the hell out of here.”

  And so we kept moving at a painstaking pace until we hit pay dirt. Our fiber optic camera caught movement in the office directly below us. Masters zoomed in and whispered, “Two techs working with something that looks like samples.”

  “Could be anything,” Watson mused.

  “I’ll mark it and we can keep moving.” Masters pulled out a thin white marker and made a notation right beside himself. On our way back, we should be able to find that so we could peek in again and see whether we could distinguish exactly what they were working on.

  We kept moving until my arms were screaming for mercy. But eventually, the sounds of voices met our ears and we slowed until we were directly above the noise. Masters handed us all ear pieces. I inserted mine and leaned closer to the floor beneath me. Masters gently inserted the camera to the cadence of voices. When someone began talking, he would push the camera through. When they stopped, he stopped. It was excruciating and I prayed no one would see any dust fa
lling from the ceiling. Surely their attention would be on other things.

  My heart almost beat right out of my chest when I heard a familiar voice speaking. Watson tensed beside me and Masters let loose a soft string of curse words the likes I’d never heard before. It was all quite civilized and quiet, but I knew all of us longed to punch the man speaking multiple times in the face.

  “You see,” the voice continued, “we all realize what you have is stolen goods. It will do neither of us any good to debate any longer. If you do not turn this back over to me, I will end you. And I would quite hate to do that.”

  A low feminine chuckle sent chills down my spine. I’d bet money that laugh belonged to Irene Adler.

  “You come into my place of business and start throwing wild accusations around. How quaint. We acquired this…property at a significant cost in a deal where we dotted all of our I’s and crossed all of our T’s.”

  The camera finally broke through the ceiling and Masters held it up so we could all see it. Sherlock sat dressed in his finest suit opposite a woman with cool blonde hair and patrician features. From the state of her shapely legs, she was physically fit and tall. Her hair was swept up in a neat chignon. Bright red lipstick and a little bit of mascara was the only makeup present on her face. Instead of the dark suits the people inside the building wore, she flaunted her wealth in a bright red well-cut suit.

  Irene Adler oozed class and dripped sex appeal.

  I watched as she leaned closer to my father and put a long hand on his upper thigh. I swallowed hard. If this went weird, I was never going to sleep again.

  “But if you’d like to procure this serum, I’m sure we can work out a deal.”

  Sherlock smiled at the woman. “Pity. Here I am trying to reason with you when it’s obvious only one thing speaks to a woman like you.” He removed her hand from his thigh and set it back upon the table. He stood and smoothed down his lapels. “I am not a man motivated by money. I’m a man devoted to research and technological advances. Of course, with that comes wealth, but it is not the reason I do this.”