Page 21 of Black Bay Defender
Kong grinned evilly, showing off his fangs. “It’d be a mistake they wouldn’t make twice.”
Grady chuckled. “No doubt.”
He sobered when they were met with those three women from earlier who had called themselves Lark’s sisters. While he didn’t begrudge them their desire to protect Lark, they better not even think of keeping him from her again.
“Stand down,” Kong grunted, a low rumble of warning rattling through his chest. “He has permission to be here.”
The women’s stances relaxed a bit, though Grady wasn’t foolish enough to think they couldn’t spring into an attack in a heartbeat if he so much as breathed wrong.
“Grady, this is Perrin, Jayla, and Lynx,” Kong said, indicating each woman with a sweep of his hand.
Perrin was the one he’d likened to a bird of prey, the spokesperson of the group. Grady couldn’t tell what mysteries might be hidden in Jayla’s DNA. She looked completely human until she smiled and showed off the fangs that all the Beasts seemed to have. Lynx on the other hand, with her blonde and black streaked hair, slightly pointed ears, and tawny eyes was definitely feline, and probably that of her namesake if he had to guess.
“How’s our girl doing?” Kong asked.
It was Perrin who answered. “She’s breathing. Her body has already dealt with the minor injuries.”
She waved them forward and Grady followed them into Lark’s dimly lit bedroom. It smelled like her, that floral scent that probably came from her shampoo, and his chest constricted. With Kong’s broad shoulders currently blocking his view of Lark, Grady took a moment to look around while he tried to slow his rapid heart beat. The room was large, with sheer, pale green curtains at the windows, but what snagged his attention was a jungle created with brush strokes. Three of the walls were white, but on the wall behind a king-sized bed, someone had painted green-blue water, clusters of mangrove trees, and thick vegetation. Had Lark painted it? She’d never mentioned any artistic talent, but whoever had done this piece was highly skilled.
Lynx moved up beside him. “That’s Erik’s work,” the woman informed him in hushed tones. “You probably haven’t met him. He keeps to himself.”
He couldn’t recall meeting anyone with that name, but any thoughts of the artist flew out of his head as Kong moved aside and he spotted Lark.
She’d been bathed, her head bandaged, and the women had dressed her in pale green silky-looking pajamas before tucking her into bed. The bruises on her face had already healed, and it looked like her hand was rapidly knitting itself back together as well. Her skin had more color too. The grayish cast of death had pinkened to that of living flesh.
Her chest, he noted, rose and fell. Slow but noticeable breathing. Grady expelled his own breath in a whoosh of relief. As Perrin had said, Lark was healing. He’d been told, but seeing proof of that claim certainly helped.
Grady moved to the head of the bed. No one stopped him. He was tempted to peel back the bandage to see the progress there, his fingers practically twitching with the need, but he reigned it in. The sight of those bullet holes might well send him spiraling into another rage.
A thought suddenly occurred to him. When they’d arrived back at Black Bay and Perrin had confronted him, he’d been angry, yes, but the feeling had been natural. Not the exaggerated, manufactured rage induced by the chip. The hostile female should have set him off and she hadn’t. Was that because he’d expelled so much rage on Ridley? Like a volcano building up pressure until it finally blows its top, only to go dormant once more when it reaches an equilibrium. Had strangling his rage caused a dangerous cumulative effect and now that he’d released it, he’d have his control back?
The only one who could probably answer that question for sure was the neurologist, Doctor Tanner Blackmore. The General had informed him that the man was on base – the only part of their op that had been a success – and was currently being held in the brig right next door to Doctor Anne Dietrich.
All of Grady’s answers and potential solutions were right here at Black Bay, and yet, he had no desire to even speak with the man. Not until Lark could do so with him. She’d been the one to point him in the right direction and wherever this was going Grady wanted her with him every step of the way.
Dropping into a chair someone had placed beside the bed, he took Lark’s hand in his.
Chapter Twelve
JacobFoleypulledhisToyota Corolla into his usual parking spot at the converted warehouse, grabbed his lunch bag and his thermos of coffee, and got out of the vehicle. The other tech, Matt, was just pulling into the parking lot as well, so he waited a moment.
Walking together to the door, they exchanged the usual pleasantries – “What’s up?”, “How’s it going?”, “Did you catch the game last night?”
Reaching the entrance, Jacob went first and swiped his ID badge. Entering his PIN code, he leaned forward for the retinal scan and then stated his name for the voice authorization when prompted. “Foley, Jacob.” But instead of a green light and a click of the locks releasing, ACCESS DENIED glowed red on the screen.
“What the hell?” Had he entered the wrong PIN? He’d done it so many times he barely paid attention anymore to what he was entering, the action having become muscle memory, so it was possible he’d accidentally hit an incorrect key.
With a grumble, he repeated the process, but this time, he carefully entered the numerical sequence.
ACCESS DENIED.
“Here, let me try,” Matt offered.
Jacob stepped aside and waited as Matt went through the identification process.
ACCESS DENIED.
Matt stared at the lock with wide eyes of surprise before he turned that look on Jacob. “What do we do?”
