Page 68 of Agent Zero
“What.”She had to cough, her throat was on fire.“Thehell.”
That got her a smile, and a snort of laughter from behind him.Reese propped her against the counter, one hand at her shoulder.He lifted her arm, and the tremors went down.
“That’s right,” he soothed.“Just got to get your proprioception down.”
What?“Hungry,” she managed.
“I know.We’re just going to teach your body where it is in time and space, okay?Your nerves need the feedback, it’ll help you adapt.”He switched sides, lifted her right arm.There was a final burst of discomfort as the clots of malignant cells buried in her ribcage and abdomen finished shrinking, and a quiet warmth began there instead.
Pancreas.And liver.I knew I was sick, I was right.It wasn’t as comforting as it could have been.She’d been prepared for...what?
To die.I was ready.Only, she hadn’t been.What was she supposed to do now?“I...I want a shower.”
“I’ll bet you do.Here, your knee.Up here.”
Her leg jolted up, almost as if he was a pushy guy she wanted to drive away.He struck the top of her thigh lightly with the back of his hand, and the touch seemed to snap the limb into place, bringing it back into her body instead of floating off in never-never land.The other leg got the same treatment, and when he slowly uncurled his fingers from her shoulder, Holly found she could stand up on her own.The world was full of fresh color and detail, but it no longer slammed into her over and over again like a baseball bat.
“Interesting,” Reese said, and his mouth quirked a fraction.“Hey, Holly.Let’s get some food in you.”
Wait just a second.Her brain finally engaged, spinning through the last few minutes.And the time before, but those memories were curiously darkened, like old photographs.“You—wait.Just hold on a second.This is...youdid this to me.”
“It’s a virus,” the other voice supplied, helpfully, and she peered around Reese to see a slightly shorter man, built compact and wide-shouldered, sandy haired, a beard she could tell he didn’t like crawling up his cheeks.His eyes were very blue, and nothing about him was familiar.“CTX-48, if you want to be specific, code-named Gibraltar.It crawls into your mitochondrial DNA and?—”
“Breakfast first,” Reese said, and Holly slumped against the counter, staring at him.“Explanations can wait.”
Ninety percent casualty...infect...thirty percent...little swarmers...I’m all flesh, Holly.You smell good.
“My God,” she whispered, and Reese’s heartbeat sped up just a fraction.Which meant hers did, too.“What have you done to me?”
FORTY-THREE
The pancakes were vanishingat a good clip, the eggs were all but gone, and the oranges had been reduced to peels and seeds.Hungry meant she’d survived, and that was just fine by Reese.
Still, Holly was far too quiet.Eating in starveling bites, those big blue eyes distrustful, and that glorious scent coming in waves.Mixing with the bacon Cal was putting a dent in as well as the richness of coffee, her scent was more intense.More alive.
More like an agent’s.
And there was something else—that metallic yellow streak, gone.It had been so much a part of her aura before, no wonder he’d thought it intrinsic.Had she been really sick, as she’d feared?Being distracted by her at every turn might have covered something up.She kept folding a hand over the right side of her abdomen as if it hurt, but nothing sounded wrong, and she didn’t smell like pain.
She also wouldn’t quite meet his gaze.She kept quiet as Cal kept talking about absorption rates and virology, every once in a while throwing the goddamn man a glance just a little too fearful to be inviting or even thoughtful.
When she finally stopped eating and stared into her coffee cup, even Cal seemed to notice something was wrong.At least, his explanations trailed off, and he kept looking at Reese as if asking for direction.
Too goddamn late.It was all right, though.It meant Reese didn’t have to explain, and whatever anger surfaced would probably fasten on the interloper.
Finally, the silence turned absolute.He poured himself a cup of coffee.There wasn’t a third chair at the tiny table, so he leaned against the sink and watched her.
She was alive.Dependent on him, maybe even more thoroughly than before.She still smelled so goddamn good it made his eyes water and his hormones rebel.And he’d been with her long enough to know that there was trouble brewing on the Holly horizon.
She pushed her chair back, gingerly, as if expecting it to fall apart.Stood up, with that same finicky care.The tank top did nothing to hide the shape of her breasts, and his throat had gone dry by now.A crackleglaze of dried sweat all over her, and every fresh drift of her scent made him remember touching her in the dark.
“I think I should take a shower now,” she said, very quietly.“Is there hot water?”
“Ah.”Reese had to swallow, twice.His imagination was just too good.“Yeah, there should be plenty.Holly?—”
“Okay.”She turned, grabbed at the back of the chair as if going to overbalance—and he found himself right next to her, his hand closing around her elbow even as she tried to twitch away.
She flinched.Halted, staring at the floor.
