Wilde Storm Read online

  My annoyance softened. “I know. Just…not tonight, okay? Enjoy yourselves.”

  Cass shook her head. “If you change your mind, we’ll be at Carmen’s.”

  I loved Carmen’s. Cool drinks, bluesy Indie music. Dang it. I nodded. “If I change my mind, I’ll let you know.”

  With a wobbly smile, she turned and left my room.

  The next morning, I woke up bright and early. My hair was still in tip-top shape, but I bundled it into a messy bun and dressed as quickly as possible. While I wasn’t exactly looking forward to working with Aaron, I was looking forward to helping Masters’ little girl and fulfilling the promise I’d made to him. At first, I did it out of fear for my life, but I’d come to genuinely care about the guy and knew exactly how far one would go for family. So…I’d totally forgiven him for shoving a gun in my face and threatening to kill me.

  Aaron was already standing at the entrance to the lab when I showed up and he unceremoniously shoved a white cup of steaming hot goodness under my nose. I gratefully accepted it and sighed as the steam hit my nose. His mouth twitched, but he made no comment.

  “Thanks,” I said quietly. I scanned my keycard, snagged two white lab coats when the door opened, and tossed one his way. Shrugging into it while carefully trying to balance my coffee, I motioned for him to follow me. My father would have had a conniption if he knew we had liquid in the open lab area, so I hurried over to the break room, flipped the light on, and sank down into one of the seats to enjoy my coffee. Aaron sat across from me.

  He’d remembered how I took my coffee. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.

  “Where do we start?” he asked me.

  “I can show you my research and we can talk about yours. Do you have the formulation you used?”

  He nodded and pulled a piece of paper out of his button-down shirt. “If we filter out the rest of your DNA, I think the formula may work.”

  I frowned. “It depends on whether it’s bonded to the serum. If it changed the way the serum worked, like my father thinks, that might not work.”

  We finished our coffee in silence, tossed our cups into the trash, and headed out into the lab. It would be hours before anyone else would be here, so we had time to openly discuss things without the worry of prying ears.

  I took the test tube of research out of the refrigerator. Aaron made no comment at first, content to let me work. Once I had the container open, he sidled up closer to me. “Have you tested it yet?”

  I shook my head. “I haven’t been working on it for that long, but after…what happened, I thought maybe I could separate the diseased cells from her body, repair them, and put them back.”

  I felt his side-eyed glance. “What would the injection be used for?”

  “There’s a dye inside it that would highlight all her non-healthy cells. We can use Sherlock’s new MRI technology to highlight those and once we know the location, we can send a chip inside her to capture them.”

  “Like Innerspace?” Aaron asked.

  I snorted. I loved that movie. “Kind of. But much cooler.”

  “What would you replace them with while they’re being repaired?”

  I shook my head once. “I haven’t gotten that far.”

  “Could you place her in an induced coma?”

  “I thought about it, but she’s young and her health is fragile. I’d rather not. This is too invasive. We need something like—”

  “Suspended animation. That’s what you need, love,” my father’s low, British tone interrupted us.

  Jerking, I hissed as the serum almost spilled out of its tube. I let out an annoyed sigh. “Yes. That’s exactly what I was about to say.”

  “All you had to do was ask,” my father said.

  I set the tube carefully down. “Dad?” Was he serious? “You have the technology to do this?”

  His glare surprised me. “Penelope. We are time travelers, darling. All of the world’s technology is at our fingertips.”

  My mouth dropped open. I was so used to dealing with the equipment and parameters given to me, I never realized all I had to do was ask my father to reach out for me. My brow furrowed. “Is there already a cure for Batten’s?” I asked, prepared to be extremely angry if I’d wasted my time.

  My father smiled. “Alas, no. Neither are there cures for cancer, Alzheimer’s, or HIV.”

  “The money is in the medicine,” Aaron said in a droll tone.

  Sherlock waggled an eager finger at him. “Right you are, chap. Right you are.”

  My mind was going in a hundred different directions and I motioned my father over. I hadn’t yet shown him what I was working on. He looked surprised and hurried over to my side. I explained my theories and waited for him to respond.

  He cleared his throat. “Brilliant,” he said after a moment. “Bloody brilliant.”

  Tears gathered in the back of my eyes. “Thanks, Dad,” I said in a thick voice. “Do you think it will work?”

  “That, I don’t know. This is why we try, though. For that one in a million chance it does.”

  “Once you get the cells out, how do you plan to repair them?”

  I smiled at Aaron.

  “Ah,” he said and chuckled. “That’s where I come in.”

  “Indeed,” my father said.

  Aaron looked over his notes. “Sherlock, sir, I know I have no right to ask, but the serum I took from your daughter was tainted.”

  One of my father’s eyebrows rose as he waited for Aaron to cover himself all the way with the hole he was beginning to dig.

  Aaron cleared his throat uncomfortably and started again. “What I meant to say was the serum was altered by Penelope’s DNA. Changed from her mother’s bloodstream into hers and now I believe it has completely changed the way the serum works. Although I was able to alter some of its effects into what I wanted, her DNA probably remains molded to the very essence of the cells—”

  “Which is why humans who don’t carry the Holmes’ DNA are dying all over time?” my father interjected.

  Aaron had the grace to at least look a little ashamed. He nodded. “Yes.”

  “You need a batch of pure serum,” my father stated.

  My eyes widened. How different could everything have been if Aaron had just approached my father in such a way instead of the way he had?

  From the look on Aaron’s face, the same thought was occurring to him. Finally, he nodded, a pained expression on his face.

  “Very well,” my father agreed readily, to my shock. “But Penelope will handle the sample and it will be used only under her express permission when she is around. Are we clear?”

  Aaron was stunned. “Uh. Yes. Agreed.” He stumbled through his words.

  “You think a pure sample will allow you to alter it in such a way that the immortality is rendered inert?” His gaze narrowed. “Brilliant deduction. I’d like to see you attempt this when you are ready.”

  Aaron nodded. “Of course.”

  “Very well. I shall leave you both to your own designs then. Good morning.” He turned and left us standing there.

  The silence between Aaron and I was a little bit frosty the rest of the morning. I had no doubt he was thinking about my father and the ease in which he offered to provide a sample of his serum. Part of me wondered whether he had overheard Aaron confessing his mother’s illness, or perhaps did some further background checking after Aaron escaped. I would never know, but I enjoyed the fact that my dad unsettled Aaron. I showed mercy on him an hour or so later after my eyes had become bleary from reading about suspended animation. Trials were supposed to start soon around the country, but I couldn’t find anything with actual proof of success. “Do you think your creation will halt your mother’s Parkinson’s?”

  Aaron blinked and focused on me. “One can hope.”

  I broached the question I’d been thinking about ever since he brought it up. “Why not just give her the immortality serum as is?”

  He was silent for so long, I thought
he wasn’t going to answer me. “My father passed away about ten years ago. She has no desire to live forever. She just wants to live the rest of her life in some sense of normalcy.”

  It made sense. It was exactly what I used to want. Still wanted, actually, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to have it. “Do you think this would extend her life beyond her natural years?”

  He rubbed his eyes with the palm of his hands. “Perhaps. But if I could just cure her Parkinson’s, her quality of life would be much better for the life she has left.”

  “I’m sorry about your mom.”

  Aaron laughed in a humorless tone. “Not your fault. Let’s get back to work, shall we?”

  I didn’t try to pry anymore. I simply turned my attention back to my father’s weird collection of past and futuristic textbooks so I could read up on all I needed to know.

  This was the easy part. The next step was to get Masters’ permission to even allow it once Aaron had perfected his healing injection.

  No pressure.

  We were forced to start picking up around eight that morning. Others were coming into the lab and I never felt comfortable sharing my research with the rest of my father’s team. I’m sure they were qualified and loyal, but it somehow felt like the condition of Masters’ daughter was not mine to share. So I carefully placed the tube back into the fridge and shut the door. Aaron and I picked up the rest of the books and we left the lab as spotless as it had been when we came in.

  I told Aaron I’d get the serum sample by tomorrow morning and we’d meet at the same time. Once he agreed, we parted ways and I made my way back to my rooms to change. Once inside and assured I was the only one there, I changed into a pair of workout leggings, a snug tank top, and soft, flexible shoes. I made my way to Watson’s rooms, knocked once softly, and pushed inside. It was empty, save the soft whir of the extra air conditioner running.

  I sat down on the floor mat and went through several stretching exercises Watson had showed me. Once I finished with those, I stood, bouncing on my toes and wondering where he was. I didn’t have long to ponder, because moments later, he slammed out of his personal quarters, tossed me a bottle of water, and growled, “Get ready.”

  I blinked, wondering what kind of bear crawled into his ass.

  I didn’t have time to ask. Seconds after I opened the bottle of water and was about to take a drink, Watson sped toward me, knocked it out of my hands, and went on the offensive, kicking, punching, and generally just being a major douche canoe.

  Or…an instructor.

  My body hummed like a warrior and with scarcely a thought, I allowed the water to fly away, barely blinking as it showered both of us in droplets, and met his punches and kicks with blocks and dodges. His teeth pulled back in a fierce grin, seeing as I didn’t even have time to blink, much less figure out why he was so angry with me.

  He left his side open again and I punched him several times harder than normal in the same ribs I’d bruised yesterday. His indrawn hiss of breath pleased me inordinately. “You leave it open. Every. Time,” I breathed.

  We circled each other warily as Watson stopped his flurry of blows. My hands were up and my feet were nimble as I watched him as closely as I could.

  “I don’t like Aaron here,” he said, barely out of breath.

  “Not sure either of us have a choice.” The last time those two worked together hadn’t gone too amazing and Watson was the one who’d finally realized Aaron was betraying us while I lay on the gurney, unable to defend myself.

  “Sherlock is an idiot for allowing him back. Cass, too.”

  I wasn’t so sure I agreed. My father never did anything stupid. “He has his reasons, I’m sure.”

  Watson flung himself in the air and let loose a powerful kick. I leaned back out of the way, barely in time. “Nice,” I muttered. “Careful you don’t break my pretty teeth,” I egged him on. “My daddy might get very angry with you.”

  With a growl, he sank and swept his legs under mine, knocking me off my feet. I went with the motion, but instead of falling, I was able to execute a back flip.

  Watson straightened and stared at me in surprise. “I had no idea you could do that.”

  Sensing his brutal attack was over, at least for the moment, I hung my head and gasped for air. “Neither did I. Cool trick, though, huh?”

  His mouth quirked in amusement. “Only if you can do it more than once,” he said.

  He took a couple steps back from me. “Any more changes?”

  Other than being able to foresee what he was going to do seconds before he did it? I shook my head and lied. “Nope.”

  He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it, apparently thinking better of it. “If there’s anything, you should tell your father.”

  “Of course.” Another lie. I went to the fridge and snagged another bottle of water after I tossed him one. “Any particular reason you came at me like a charging bull today?”

  “To see if you were prepared.”

  “Liar,” I said.

  I watched the long cords of his neck work as he sucked down the water. He wiped his arm across his mouth and sent me a dazzling smile. “Right back atcha.”

  “Tell me yours and I’ll tell you mine.” I knew he wouldn’t. My secret would be safe.

  But for a terrifying moment, a speculative gleam lit in his eye, as if he gauged how important my secret was weighed against his. Internally, I was panicking. Externally, I sipped my water and gave him a wide-eyed, innocent stare.

  “One day, I’m going to take you by surprise, Penelope. And it’s going to shock you right down to your pretty unpainted toenails.” He tossed his water bottle into the recycling bin, snagged a towel to wipe himself off, and stalked back into his quarters, leaving me standing there completely nonplussed. How in the hell did he know I didn’t paint my toenails? I never went barefoot around him.

  I made a vow to thoroughly check my quarters for surveillance equipment once I made it back.

  My father tossed Aaron a DAR. I frowned, but knew it was necessary.

  “We’ve equipped this one with a special tracking chip. We will know where you are, when you are, and if you’ve attempted to discard or tamper with the DAR. It would be in your best interests to do what you need to do with no extracurricular activities and get back here as soon as possible.”

  Aaron nodded curtly.

  “Good. The technology you need is in the year 2045.” He sighed, as if it were the most ridiculous thing in the world. “Can you believe it took them that long to figure out how to use suspended animation in medical science? Appalling.”

  I snorted. “Government grants. Free money. Job security. Why figure it out?”

  “Appalling,” he muttered under his breath again.

  He handed me a small case. “Think of this like Mary Poppin’s bag. It’s small and easy to carry, but when you open it…” he paused for dramatic effect. “Penelope,” he said with thinly veiled impatience, “open it.”

  “Oh!” I opened the black bag.

  My father tossed in a pen.

  I waited, and when nothing happened, said, “Super anticlimactic.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Pull it out.”

  I reached in and touched something cold and metal. Pulling my hand out, I gave him a quizzical stare and tried again. Cold metal, and it felt…large.

  He nodded in satisfaction.

  His eyes gleamed at the expression I’m sure I must have been wearing.

  “Set it on the floor,” he said.

  I wasn’t sure what good that would do, but I did and the bag expanded so far, I had to jump out of the way. I turned wide eyes to him.

  “I always wanted a bag like that,” he said, more to himself than me.

  “So you made one.”

  “That, I did. It will hold up to two-hundred pounds.”

  Aaron choked. “Impossible,” he breathed.

  “No, son. Improbable,” my father said.

  It seemed impossible, bu
t I’d seen a lot of things that made me no longer doubt my father. Incredible leaps and bounds in science and technology. My father, if he weren’t already, could be a rich, rich man if he chose to be.

  “Incredible,” I whispered. I nudged the fabric with a foot and it moved like silk. I had no idea how he’d done it, and—according to the government, at least—I was one smart cookie. The fabric lay flat against the ground and I could see nothing inside, yet I knew there was something. I had touched it. Hadn’t I?

  I bent down, reached in again, and felt the hard item. My fingers roamed around the sides until I thought I had a good grip on it. I pulled it out. A toaster. I reached in again. A notebook. Pens, pencils, rulers, kitchen utensils, small appliances…

  “This is insane.”

  “Quite,” he said, pleased as punch. Aaron stepped up beside me and bent down. He shook his head as he fingered the fabric.

  “It feels like silk almost,” he observed.

  “Not quite.” He studied Aaron. “It’s a fabric I picked up in one of my many travels.”

  Aaron craned his head up to look at him. “Current day?”

  An enigmatic smile touched Sherlock’s face. “Not even a little bit.”

  Aaron’s eyes narrowed. “In this dimension?”

  Was I the only person who didn’t understand or even get interdimensional travel? Neither Watson nor my father ever spoke of it when I was around, though they did warn me away from it. I wondered if Aaron had ever been anywhere like that.

  A single shake of his head and my father closed the subject. “I’ll only say I was extremely careful to procure this fabric and it took years to finalize my experiment.”

  “Amazing. Hats off to you, sir. You could make a fortune if this was put to market,” Aaron said, echoing my earlier thoughts.

  With a wave of his hand, he dismissed that thought. “It’s not about the money, son. It’s about the discovery!”

  I smiled because I knew he spoke the truth. My father had to be wealthy to have all of this, so whatever he was doing to make money, it was working. But the most joy I’d ever seen in him came when there was a challenge, something to figure out or create. Sweeping the fabric up with my hands, it fell back into the shape of a small briefcase and I slung the long strap over my shoulder. “I’m assuming whatever we need is small enough to fit?”