She leaned across the desk and added, “Sir,” a touch sarcastically.
Stephan Stern raised one blond eyebrow, as if mildly surprised by her outburst. An outburst he’d known was coming for months. “You know I don’t want to do that.”
“I don’t honestly care what you want. This is about what I want.” She pushed away from the desk, unable to stand still any longer. Damn it, she’d spent more than half her life with her head in the sand, cruising through life rather than participating, and she’d had more than enough. The time had come to get greedy—to think about her wants, her desires, for a change. And what she wanted right now was not only a more active personal life, but a working life that involved something better than a broom closet. “Transfer me back to State, let me resign or find me another partner. As I said, I don’t care. Just get me out of my current situation.”
Her angry strides carried her the length of the beige-colored office in no time and she turned to face Stephan. His expression was as remote as ever, but she’d learned very early on that Stephan was a master at hiding his emotions—and that his dead face was just as likely to mean fury as calm.
“I prefer to leave you with Gabriel, as I still believe you two will make a formidable team.”
Sam snorted softly. “That has never been an option, and I think we both realize that now.”
It wasn’t as if she hadn’t tried, for God’s sake. But her partner was still going out of his way to exclude her from everything from investigations to chitchat. Access to the SIU’s vast computer system just wasn’t worth this frustration and unhappiness.
Especially since she was getting jack shit in the way of information about the past she couldn’t remember. Hell, her dreams were providing more information than the SIU’s system. The only trouble was, how much could she actually trust the dreams?
And how much could she trust the man who constantly walked through them?
She didn’t know, nor did she have anyone she could talk to about it—and that was perhaps the most frustrating thing about this entire situation. She needed to get a life. Friends. People she could trust and talk to. Hell, even a pet would be better than going home alone to a soulless hotel room every night.
“I prefer to give the situation more time.” Stephan crossed his arms and leaned forward. “However, I do have another option that might suit us both.”
Sam met his gaze. His blue eyes were sharp, full of cunning and intelligence. Stephan was a shark by nature—and this was the reason he, rather than his twin, Gabriel, ruled the SIU and the Federation.
Of course, that also meant she was beating her head against a brick wall where Gabriel was concerned, because Stephan was always going to look after his twin’s interests first. Even if said twin didn’t appreciate his efforts any more than Sam did.
She came to a stop in front of his desk and couldn’t help feeling like a fish about to be hooked. “What might that be?”
“You remember Dan Wetherton?”
She nodded. “Last I heard, no one was sure if the body Gabriel found was the real Wetherton or a clone.”
“Well, as it happens, it was the original.”
Sam snagged the nearest chair and sat down, interested despite her wariness. “Gabriel and I theorized about the possibility of whole brain transplants making clones a viable replacement option, but officially—as far as I’m aware—it’s still considered impossible to create a clone that exactly duplicates the mannerisms and thoughts of the original person. They may be genetically identical, but they are nevertheless different.” She hesitated, frowning. “Besides, I read the in-house reports and tests done on the living Wetherton. He was declared human in all scientific results.”
“And a clone isn’t?”
She grimaced. Clones were human, no doubt about that. But whether that actually granted them humanity was a point of contention between the scientists and the theologists. “Having only met one clone, who was trying to kill me at the time, I don’t feel qualified to answer that particular question.”
Amusement touched the corners of Stephan’s thin lips. “As it happens, the test results were altered by a party or parties unknown long before we got them.” He picked up a folder from his desk and offered it to her. “These are the originals. Have a look.”
From past experience she knew that it was pointless to ask how he’d gotten hold of the original papers. Stephan worked on a need-to-know basis—and generally, that meant the less everyone knew, the better. She doubted even Gabriel was privy to all his secrets.
Not that Gabriel himself was particularly open. Not with her, anyway.
She leafed through the information inside the folder. It included the genetic tests on both Wetherton and the clone, the coroner’s report and Wetherton’s medical history.
“Wetherton had cancer,” she said, looking up. “Incurable.”
“Which the current version no longer has.”
She threw the folder back on the desk. “If you know he’s not the original, why not simply kill him?”
“Because we wanted to know why he was cloned. And where.”
“But not who had cloned him?” Did that mean they suspected the mysterious Sethanon was behind it all?
“As I said, we don’t know the where and the why. But there is only one suspect for the who.”
“But the military is experimenting with genetics. There’s no reason why Wetherton can’t be their boy.”
“No, there’s not.”
His tone seemed to dismiss her speculation, and yet she had a vague notion that she’d hit upon the very issue that was troubling Stephan. Only, for some weird reason, he didn’t want to acknowledge it. “And what about the replacement parts industry? Have you checked to see if they have started developing fully formed beings, or is that just too obvious?”
His expression became briefly annoyed. “We never overlook the obvious.”
Of course not. She smiled slightly. Irritating Stephan might be akin to prodding a lion with a very short stick, but when she got even the slightest reaction, it was oddly satisfying.
“The black-market trade in cloned parts is booming,” she said. Of course, it was fueled mainly by humanity’s desperation to cheat death. An incredible number of people seemed willing to pay exorbitant prices to grow new body parts, so why not take it a step further, and attempt a cloning miracle? Not just a replacement heart or liver or whatever other part had failed, but a whole new body?
But humanity was more than just a brain; it was also a heart and soul. Medical science might be able to transfer flesh and brain matter, but how could anyone transfer a soul? Even if they could pin down what a soul actually was?
Not that rules ever stopped anyone—especially when there was huge money to be made.
And somewhere along the line, someone had succeeded in achieving at least part of the impossible—fully fleshed, viable clones who looked and acted like the original. Wetherton, and her ex-partner, Jack Kazdan, were proof of that. Although something had gone wrong with Jack’s clone; it might have looked like him, but it had had serious problems speaking. But then, it had been given a shitload of growth accelerant, so it wasn’t truly a surprise that it couldn’t speak well. It had never really had the time to learn.
“His source is not black market. We’re sure of that.”
She studied him for a moment, then changed tactics. “Wetherton’s just been made Minister for Science and Technology, hasn’t he?”
Stephan nodded. “Two years ago he was trying to shut down many of the science programs, stating that the money could be better spent on the health care system. Now he’s in charge of the lot.”
“Why hasn’t anyone questioned this sudden change of heart? Surely the press has noted it?”
“Noted a political backflip?” Amusement touched his lips again. “You’re kidding, right?”
Point made. Flip-flopping politicians were such a fact of life that even the press had gotten tired of them. And the public at l
arge simply ignored them, except when the flops directly affected their bottom line.
“What advantage would having a clone in such a position be for someone like Sethanon?”
“Sadly, we don’t know the answer to that one yet.”
Not until they caught Sethanon, anyway. And he had proven as elusive as a ghost.
“So you’ve had Wetherton watched?”
“We’ve had an agent in his office for the last two months, but she can’t get close enough. Wetherton plays his cards very close to his chest.”
If the man was a clone, he’d have to. One mistake and the truth would be out.
“What does all this have to do with my wanting a transfer?”
He smiled—all teeth and no sincerity. “The minister has recently received several death threats. He was given police protection, but the would-be killer has slipped past them on a number of occasions and left notes. The minister has now requested the SIU’s help.”
She regarded him steadily. “So who did you use to drop the notes? A vampire or a shapeshifter?”
Amusement flickered briefly through his eyes. “The original threats were real enough.”
Yeah, right. There was just a little too much sincerity in his voice for her to believe that. “Am I the only agent being sent in?”
“No. You’ll handle the night shift—it suits your growing abilities better. Jenna Morwood will do the days.”
Morwood wasn’t someone she’d met. “What’s her specialty?”
“Morwood’s an empath and telekinetic.”
So she’d be able to see an attack coming by simply reading the emotions swirling around her—a good choice for this sort of work. “Are we the only two going in?”
“Yes.” He hesitated. “Wetherton has requested that the night watch stay at his apartment when he’s there at night. Since the first two threats were hand-delivered, I’ve agreed to his request. I want you to observe everyone he meets. Become his shadow and learn his secrets.”
A huge task. “And the reason you’re sending two female agents?”
Once again, that insincere smile flashed. “Wetherton appears less guarded around females.”
“Meaning what? That he’s likely to hit on us?”
“It’s a distinct possibility. And before it’s mentioned, no, I do not expect or want you to sleep with the man.”
“Good, because I wouldn’t.” She hesitated, frowning. “Wetherton’s made much of his caring, family-man image over the last few years. That doesn’t quite jell with him hitting on anything with breasts.”
“He and his wife separated not long after the original’s death. Since then, he’s bought a nice apartment on Collins Street and now spends most of his nights there. He’s also been seen with an endless stream of beauties on his arms.”
She frowned. Wetherton wasn’t exactly a looker—though that in itself didn’t mean anything. Some of the ugliest spuds in the world had immense success with the ladies simply because of the wealth they controlled, or their sheer magnetic power. But from what she remembered of Wetherton, neither of these was a factor.
“I’m surprised the press haven’t had more of a field day.”
“They did initially, but a politician behaving badly isn’t exactly news these days.”
That was certainly true. “I doubt whether I’ll learn all that much doing night shift. Surely most of his business will be conducted during the day, no?”
Stephan smiled grimly. “Wetherton has a surprising number of business meetings at night—and usually at nightclubs, where it’s harder to get a bug in.”
“He’ll be suspicious of me. He’s not likely to trust me with anything vital.”
“Not for a while. It may take months.”
Months out of her life and her need to find her past. But also months away from Gabriel. Would absence make his heart grow fonder? A smile touched her lips. Unlikely. “What about time off? You can’t expect either of us to work seven days a week.”
He nodded. “You’ll each get two days—though which two will depend on Wetherton’s schedule. Generally, it will be the days he spends at home with his children. We have other arrangements in place there.”
“Will the press buy our sudden appearance in his life? This sort of protection is usually handled by the feds, not the SIU.”
“They won’t question our appearance after tonight, believe me.”
The dry coldness in his voice sent chills down her spine. “Why? What are you planning for tonight?”
“A spectacular but ineffectual murder attempt. Wetherton may be injured, and will, of course, demand our help.”
“So who’s the patsy?”
Stephan shrugged. “A young vampire we captured several weeks ago. He’d been something of a political dissident in life, and his afterlife has only sharpened his beliefs.”
And Stephan had no doubt been feeding his madness, aiming it toward Wetherton. Meaning this plan had been in motion for some time, and that this assignment was part of a bigger picture than he was currently admitting to.
Goose bumps ran up Sam’s arms and she rubbed them lightly. Perhaps the vampire wasn’t the only patsy in this situation.
“I gather the vamp will die?”
“He murdered seven people before we captured him. His death is merely a delayed sentence.”
“What if he escapes?”
“He won’t.”
Sam shifted in her chair. “If Wetherton is up to anything nefarious, it’s doubtful I’ll be privy to it.”
“No. There will be certain times you’ll be sent from the room; this is unavoidable. To counter it, you’ll bug the room.”
“Most federal buildings have monitors. The minute a bug is activated, an alarm will sound.”
“They won’t detect the ones we’ll give you. Our labs have specifically developed bugs that will function in just this sort of situation.”
And no doubt developed a means of detecting them, too. “How long do you think I’ll be guarding Wetherton?”
Stephan shrugged. “I can’t honestly say. It could be a month; it could be a year. Parliament doesn’t convene again until the middle of next month. By then, you will be such a fixture in his life that no one will comment.”
By then, she hoped Wetherton would have revealed all his secrets and she could get on with her life. Spending months in Canberra, yawning her way through endless cabinet sessions, was not something to look forward to.
She crossed her arms and stared at Stephan. He returned her gaze calmly. The uneasy feeling that he wasn’t telling her everything grew.
“You’re doing this to get back at Gabriel, aren’t you? You want him to care.”
“I’m doing this because no other agents have your particular range of talents. Your ability to detect evil could be vital in this case.”
No lies, but not the exact truth, either. She sat back, feeling more frustrated than when she’d first entered Stephan’s office. Guarding Wetherton was not the job she really wanted, but what other choice did she have? It was either this or put up with endless hours of mind-numbing paperwork in her shoe-box office in the Vault.
“How do I keep in contact?”
“You’ll be wearing a transmitter that will be monitored twenty-four hours a day.” Stephan reached into his desk and pulled out what looked like a gold ear stud. “This is the current model. It records sound and pictures. You turn it on and off by simply touching the surface.”
“I don’t have to get my ears pierced, do I?” She’d rather face a dozen vampires than one doctor armed with a body-piercing implement.
Stephan’s smile held the first real hint of warmth she’d seen since she walked into his office. “No. The studs are designed to cling to human flesh. You actually won’t be able to get them off without the help of the labs.”
Just as well she could turn them off, then. She needed some privacy in her life, even if it was only to go to the bathroom.
“When do I start?”
/> “Tomorrow night.” Stephan picked up another folder and passed it across the desk. “In here you’ll find detailed backgrounds on Wetherton’s friends, family and business acquaintances.”
She dropped the folder onto her lap. There was plenty of time to look at it later. “You were pretty certain I’d take this job, weren’t you?”
“Yes. What other choice have you actually got?”
Indeed. “And Gabriel?”
“Will be told you’ve been reassigned.”
Which would no doubt please him. He’d finally gotten what he wanted—her out of his life. “And will I be? After this assignment is over, that is?”
Stephan considered her for several seconds. “That depends.”
“On what?”
“On whether or not he has come to his senses by then.”
A statement she didn’t like one little bit. “You owe me, Stephan,” she said softly. For ordering his agents to shoot when she’d been trying to stop the shifter who’d taken Gabriel’s form. For the hour of questioning she’d faced afterward when she should have been in the med center. For saving his twin’s life. “All I want is permanent reassignment.”
His gaze met hers, assessing, calculating. “All right,” he said slowly. “As I said, this assignment could take more than a year to complete. If you still wish a new partner at the end, I will comply.”
She stared at him. He had agreed to her demands far too easily. She didn’t trust him—and didn’t trust that he meant what he said. But for the moment, there was little she could do about it.
“What happens if I need access to files or information?”
“You’ll have a portable com-unit with you, coded to respond only to your voice and retinal scan. You’ll also have priority access to all files, though a copy of all requests and search results will be sent to me.”
She raised an eyebrow. Priority access? Whatever it was Stephan thought Wetherton was involved in had to be huge.
The intercom buzzed into the silence and Stephan leaned across and pressed the button. “Yes?”
“Assistant Director Stern to see you, as requested, sir.”
“Send him in.” He gave her a toothy smile that held absolutely no sincerity. “I thought you might like to say goodbye.”