Generation 18 (Spook Squad 2)

“And he’s more than a little pissed off over that, you know. I had to send him home and give him time to cool down. Of course, I also had to promise that he could kill you after I’d finished with you.”

He snorted softly. “I’m sure you intend to kill me anyway.”

“Oh yes. But at least I would have been quick about it. Orrin savors the suffering and the blood. It feeds some need in his soul.”

Which was as good a reason as any to be well and truly out of here by then. Another strand of the thick rope snapped loose. Time. He just needed more time.

“Sounds to me as if you should be attacking Hopeworth more than the innocent by-products of their experiments.”

She gave him a cold smile. “We intend to, once I fulfill Emma’s dying wish.”

The woman was definitely mad if she thought she could go up against the might of Hopeworth and win. “And how does Dr. Francis play into all of this?”

“She’s been a useful ally when it comes to getting access to people and drugs. She’s also a very useful decoy. She led you into my trap pretty successfully, don’t you think?”

Yes, she did, and more the fool him for not following instinct and staying at the house. “What did she get out of the situation?”

“Test subjects for her Jadrone replacement. Of course, I did have to kill them afterward, but I don’t believe that worried her.”

“So what do you intend to do with me now?”

“You will help us more than you can know.” Rose regarded him steadily for a moment. “Shall I show you how?”

Amusement mingled with the madness, and his gut clenched. Whatever it was, it wasn’t good.

Her body began to shift, to mold itself into a new form until what stood before him was his own image. Rose wasn’t just a shifter. She was what they’d long thought impossible—a cross-gender hybrid.

“So what do you think, Assistant Director?”

Her voice was his. So that was why she hadn’t minded answering his questions. She wanted to hear how he talked, the inflections in his voice, the way he used words.

“I think you’re mad.” Mad enough to get away with it. He sawed desperately on the last few strands of rope. He had to stop her here, now, or the adoptees would die. The agents watching them wouldn’t question his sudden appearance or his need to check each adoptee personally. They were all too used to his eccentric ways.

She smiled. “I don’t intend to hold the disguise long. Just long enough to get to the rest of the adoptees and kill them.”

“You’ll never find them.”

“Your computer doesn’t have their location? I very much doubt it.”

It did. And as good as her disguise was, she’d probably get past the voice and eye scans. If he got out of this alive, he’d have to talk to Finley about finding another way to secure vital information.

She glanced at her watch, which, like her now too-short clothes, hadn’t changed. “Time runs away from me, unfortunately. As much as I enjoyed our little chat, I now have to go. Be good, Assistant Director. I’ll be back in a few hours.”

She turned and walked to the door. The last of the rope strands fell from his wrist and he jerked upright as Rose opened the door. He threw the rope to one side and lunged for the door.

It slammed shut in his face and he punched the metal in frustration. Her laughter ran around him, fading as she walked away.

—

Sam climbed out of her car and studied the house opposite. The redbrick, single-story house with a metal picket fence and well-tended garden looked no different from its immediate neighbors.

Only it was. Evil resided inside.

She rubbed her arms, then reached back into the car to collect her coat. The wristcom buzzed against her side. She slipped on the coat and answered the call.

“We’re in position, Agent Ryan.”

“Give me five minutes, Briggs, then move in around the back.” She glanced down the road, studying the gray Ford parked several houses down. She pointed toward the side of the house and saw an answering nod from inside the car. Taking a deep breath, she walked across the road and opened the front gate.