“I need to reset the door to allow you in.” He explained as he pulled a key card from his pocket.
“No need, Big Man.” I stepped forward and placed my palm on the scanner. It registered as Frankie Gardiner instantly.
“I didn’t know Mimic Sidhe could replicate fingerprints.” His expression was closed off.
I didn’t care to explain. I need alone time and some hard-core self-loving before I exploded in a cloud of shadows and nightmares. I wiggled my fingers in a wave as I shut the door in his face.
I had gotten wrist cramps but had finally washed the antiseptic hospital smell out of Frankie's hair when I heard a knock on the door.
If a knock could sound arrogant, it did. Harsh and demanding. I marched over, wrapped in a Terry cloth robe, and opened the door—fully expecting Davenport to be on the other side.
It was not Davenport.
I stood in the doorway, with my head cocked to the side, as the stranger wrapped his arms around me and clung to my body as if I was a life raft. I patted his back tentatively.
Ginger hair. The color of copper and strawberries. Pale skin and loose-fitting scrubs. Frankie's mental Rolodex informed me that the man was Daniel Gardiner. Her older brother.
Daniel could not have looked more different to Frankie if he tried. Frankie had mocha-colored skin, with light hazel eyes and plump lips. She was a mixture of African-American and Caucasian.
Daniel was the color of milk. It took a second for me to access the memories that told me they were both adopted by the Gardiner’s as small children.
How hadn’t I spotted that?
Clearly, Frankie hadn’t thought much about her paternal parents. Human thoughts and feelings were complicated.
“Hey, Danny.” I whispered, pulling up the nickname from a childhood playground memory as Frankie kissed his bloody knee and made a 'fairy wish.'
“I can't believe you’re here.” Frankie’s brother murmured. “Do you remember what attacked you and your team?”
He broke away and scanned my face, searching for something. For some reason, his intense gaze made me feel uncomfortable.
“No. It’s all a blank.” I said stiffly.
He lifted his medical bag and shook it gently, any concern was washed away and replaced by a cool demeanor. “I'm here to check you over.”
I nodded and perched on the edge of the bed. “Check away, Doctor Danny.”
He gave me a funny look but didn’t question it as he slid his bag onto the carpeted floor.
The examination was thorough but efficient. Daniel did not speak much, apart from asking me to follow his finger with my eyes.
After he had deemed me healthy, he reached into his bag and extracted an injection.
“What's that?” I said, hopefully. Prescription painkillers? Black market heroin? Unlikely. Still, a Demon could dream. Someone in this stuffy compound had to know how to have some fun.
“Vitamin supplement.” His tone brokered no argument as he jammed the needle into my arm and emptied it before I had a chance to open my mouth. I rubbed the spot on my arm. It let out a dull throb.
“I have to go.” He stood up swiftly. Apart from the uncharacteristic hug at the beginning of our meeting, his behavior fit with the memories that Frankie had of him. Their relationship was cold and distant. His stilted goodbye was proof of that.
My knowledge of human emotion was limited—he could have simply been too upset to show his feelings. I wouldn’t have known.
Maybe I needed a children's book or something. This is a happy face. This is a sad face. I didn’t want to know how Davenport would handle that request, especially if he couldn’t even honor my need for gay porn.
The door clicked shut behind Doctor Daniel, and I collapsed onto the bed dramatically. I was exhausted, which was unusual. I didn’t even want to think about tomorrow and all the ways I could fuck up.
Chapter 4
Spread-eagled on the king-size bed, and naked as the day my host had been born, I jerked awake to the sound of frantic knocking.
I groaned and pushed Frankie's soft waves away from my face. Sunlight streaked through the window, showing that I had slept the whole night away. Which was odd.
My skin was littered with gooseflesh, indicating that it had gotten cold in the night.
Another sharp knock sounded out. Reminding me of my visitor.
I hoped it wasn't Doctor Dan. He was boring as fuck.
I slapped my thighs as I sat up, staggering. With a shake of my head, I straightened my spine and answered the door.
Warren Davenport filled out the frame. His deep-set eyes gazed into mine intensely. Another man stood behind him. Dark skinned, bald head, and even taller than the commander. His bright white teeth shone a friendly smile. I scanned Frankie's memory for him but came up blank.
“Who’s that?” I jabbed a finger towards Davenport's companion.
Warren’s eyes did not leave my face. “Why are you naked?” His jaw rocked from side to side as if it was physically painful for him to speak.
I shrugged and made a noncommittal sound—something along the lines of 'I dunno.’ Davenport growled in response.
I ignored him and turned my attention back to the stranger. I extended my hand and mustered a polite smile.
“Frankie Gardiner,” I said. “You are?”
“Remi Weber.” Remi purposefully reached over Davenport's shoulder to shake my hand. “Specialist. Intelligence and communications analyst. I just transferred from London.”
I nodded sagely as if I had an idea of what he was talking about.
“Corporal. Sniper.” I informed him with a clipped tone—not inviting further description.
Remi nodded, still smirking. “Do you think you could put some clothes on?” He asked. “I’m babysitting you today, and your nudity is very distracting.”
I shrugged and turned on my heel, marching into the bedroom. I pulled open the chest of drawers and searched for something to wear. Holding up each item of clothing before discarding it on the bed.
The doorway stood open with two large men on the threshold. Davenport looked furious. Remi seemed to be having too much fun for it to be legal.
I settled on a pair of jeans and a tank top. No underwear. It was restrictive and uncomfortable. If I was given a choice, I was fully embracing the commando option.
Warren Davenport pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re with Specialist Weber today. After breakfast, I’ll expect you two in surveillance room three.” And with that, he left.
Remi hovered for a second. He bit his bottom lip and gave a theatrical moan of frustration. “Are you wearing that?”
I cocked my hip. “You’re not one of those men that tell women what to wear, are you?”
“Hell no.” He winked. “I'm also not one of those men that make blatant sexual remarks to a woman that might make them uncomfortable.”
I waved his politeness away. “I don’t care. Be as perverse as you want.”
“Dangerous woman.” He teased. “I like that.” His British accent turned the words into a cheeky quip. His voice made me shiver.
Remi accompanied me to the Mess Hall. Walking by my side, rather than striding off in front. He grabbed a tray for me when I told him about Gary and the dry chicken adventure of my first day. Remi personally made sure to check my food, flirting with the young woman behind the counter. I got an omelet with lots of veggies.
“Can I have some hot sauce with that?” I asked, gripping my tray.