Deadly Silence

  “Isn’t your fault,” Heath said, not looking up from his tablet.

  Ryker nodded, his head and heart filled with Zara and Greg. They had to be all right. What if Madison decided she wanted only Greg and not Ryker and his brothers? Would Zara be safe then or unnecessary?

  “Stop running scenarios through your mind.” Heath looked up again, concern sharpening his voice. “Get back to the computer and get to work.”

  Ryker gave him a look, then faced his computer to rip through Sheriff Cobb’s life to see if Isobel Madison had made appearances after the boys home burned down. He worked for about thirty minutes before taking his notes out to the table. “Cobb has purchased tons of land, in different states, including the thirty acres that used to hold the boys home.”

  “What about Cobb and Madison?” Heath asked.

  Ryker flipped through his notes. “I’m not sure if they ever met up again, but Cobb took several vacations through the years that don’t seem like him. Spas and faraway getaways.” His phone dinged, and he drew back. “What the fuck?”

  Running into his office, he checked the alarm on his computer, looking up just as Heath came into the room. “There’s an alert on the safe house. Another one.”

  Heath’s brow furrowed. “Why? I mean, Dr. Madison just took Greg. Why would she infiltrate the house?”

  Ryker shook his head. “I don’t know. Gut says it isn’t her.” But who it was, he had no clue. He yanked his gun from a desk drawer and tucked it at his waist. “I’ll go check it out.” He was already running through the office and almost to the door.

  “Stop,” Heath bellowed. “You need backup, and you were just shot. Your shoulder has to be burning.”

  “It’s fine.” Ryker turned. “You’re a million times better on the computer than I am. I need you on the image satellites and Denver on the phone tracking. Somebody has to check out the safe house, just in case, and it’s me. Maybe it’ll be a lead to Zara.” He didn’t wait for his brother to argue, launching back into a run.

  Within seconds, he’d pulled the truck out of the garage and onto the mostly empty roads, trying to ignore the pain. The freezing snow battered the truck, and visibility sucked, even though it was midday.

  He reached the block before the safe house, his heart thrumming, his head clouded with thoughts of Zara in danger. Taking several deep breaths, he parked and then ran through the storm. The cold slammed through him, finally bringing clarity. Good. He needed to be focused.

  Even so, as he silently crept into the backyard and into the house, he had trouble concentrating. So he closed his eyes and listened. One heartbeat. Okay. Just one. He could handle the intruder. The beat was calm and steady…and somewhat faint. The person had to be at the other end of the house.

  He moved with stealth, crossing the kitchen and entering the living room.

  A punch caught him unaware, exploding agony across his jaw. The force threw him across the living room and into a cheap card table, which splintered into pieces. He fell, rolled, and jumped up at the guy, who was supposed to be in the back room.

  Had he managed to subdue his heartbeat? Who the hell was he? His attacker was his size, fit, and wearing a ski mask. He moved gracefully, light on his feet and no doubt well trained.

  One solid punch to the gut, and the guy grunted, before swinging again for Ryker’s head.

  Ryker ducked and came up with an uppercut, his damaged shoulder protesting.

  The guy’s head jerked, and he growled as he moved forward.

  “Shit. What’s your jaw made of?” Ryker hissed, punching for the gut and nose.

  The guy took the hit and kicked out, nailing Ryker in the ribs. Pain lanced through Ryker’s torso, and he shoved it down, going for a one-two punch that threw his attacker back into the door frame. It cracked.

  The guy shoved off the wood and tackled Ryker, propelling them both over the dingy sofa. They hit the coffee table and smashed onto the dirty carpet, both angling for position.

  Ryker clapped his hands on the guy’s ears and flipped backward to his feet, then retreated toward the kitchen. The guy rolled and did a similar backflip and instantly angled to the right, his hands in fists. He kept moving, his gaze intense in the dark room, his movements slow but sure.

  Hell. The guy could really move.

  While Ryker wanted to be fair, and he really wanted to know if he could take this guy, he needed to know where, or rather who, Isobel Madison was. So he reached in his waistband for his gun.

  Cold metal instantly rested against the base of his neck.

  Fuck.

  He stilled and breathed out. Not one slice of sound had given the man in the basement away as he’d climbed the stairs. If Ryker didn’t know better, he’d guess the guy was a ghost.

  But the gun pressed to his nape belied that theory.

  He lowered his hands, waiting for an opening.

  The guy behind him didn’t give it and, instead, relieved Ryker of his gun. Then he moved back and to the side, his gun still pointed at Ryker, until he was just a yard or so away from his buddy. He wore a similar ski mask as the other guy and stood shoulder to shoulder with him. Solid muscle, and both moved with grace.

  Isobel Madison could certainly afford the best—if that’s who they were. Or perhaps she’d attracted some dangerous enemies. Just as likely. These guys were trained killers. Maybe Greg hadn’t just been hysterical and paranoid.

  Ryker wiped blood off his chin. His entire face pounded from the hit. “Where is Isobel Madison?” he asked quietly, trying to make out any of their features in the darkened room.

  The guy with the gun glanced at his partner and jerked his head.

  The other guy reached behind himself and flipped the light switch. One dingy light in the center of the room lit up.

  Ryker blinked and kept them both in his sight. He couldn’t make it to the bedroom or the kitchen without being shot. While he could duck below the couch, there wasn’t a good move after that point.

  Both men stilled. Tension swelled through the room, causing the hair to rise along Ryker’s arms.

  They didn’t move. Just stared at him.

  He stared back. “We’re at a standstill here. Tell me where Isobel is, and we’ll each go our separate ways.”

  “Who are you?” the guy with the gun whispered.

  Ryker frowned. There was something familiar about the voice, but he couldn’t place it. “None of your fucking business. Who are you? More important, where is your boss?”

  The armed man looked at his gun, looked back up at Ryker, and then slowly lowered the barrel a couple of inches, as if he didn’t want to point it at Ryker’s chest.

  Ryker stiffened and drew to his full height.

  “What’s your name?” the gunman asked.

  Ryker flashed his teeth. “Fred. Fred Johnson. Yours?”

  The guy lifted the gun and pointed it, his hand steady. “Try again.”

  Something, call it instinct, told Ryker that there was no way the guy would shoot him. Why, he had no clue. But his body relaxed. “No. Your name?”

  “Shit,” the other guy muttered. “Can you believe this?” His voice held a small, very small, thread of uncertainty.

  The armed guy shook his head.

  Ryker tensed to jump across the couch and tackle the guy with the gun.

  “You won’t make it,” the other guy said casually.

  Ryker cut his gaze to him. “He won’t shoot me.”

  “Won’t I?” the armed guy asked softly.

  “No.” Ryker edged back a couple of inches. “I don’t know why, but you decided not to shoot me the second the lights came on. Care to explain why?”

  Several beats of silence filled the tension-soaked room. “In due time. For now, why don’t you tell us why you’re searching for Isobel Madison?” the armed guy asked.

  “Do you work for her?” Ryker asked.

  “Hell no,” the other guy said. “No way.”

  Truth. Definitely the ring of truth. Ry
ker frowned. “Yet you set up a trap, and when I went looking for her, you followed the string here.”

  “This is your trap,” the armed guy said. “We just were nice enough to enter it upon your kind invitation.”

  Ryker lifted his head. “You’re looking for her, too?”

  “Fuck no,” the other guy said.

  Jesus. “Stop talking in riddles. Either you shoot me or you take off the masks. If you do neither, I’m turning and heading out the door.” At this point, he didn’t seem to have any other options.

  The unarmed guy looked to the armed guy, who shrugged.

  “Fine.” He shoved the gun into the back of his trousers.

  Ryker tensed, prepared to lunge.

  “Wait.” The guy held out a hand and slowly reached up to rip off his mask while the other guy did the same.

  Similar bone structure, angled faces, deep gray eyes. They looked alike. “Who are you?” he snapped.

  The armed guy studied him, his gaze intense. “If I had to guess, I’d say we’re family. This is Jory, and I’m Matt. Now, who the hell are you?”

  * * *

  Zara jumped from her seat. “You will not harm this boy.”

  Dr. Madison waved her back down. “Oh, he’s going to die, but just relax yourself. Right now we need him as bait.” She flashed extremely white teeth in a parody of a smile.

  Greg snarled.

  Madison drummed perfect nails on the desk. Her hands were small, dainty even, with a light bandage resting on her left one, below the knuckles. “I can have Todd here torture Miss Zara until you tell me what I want to know.” She narrowed her gaze on Zara’s face. “Actually, I would like to know how much you can take. My Ryker wouldn’t fall for just any woman, and the way you jumped out a window to stay with this kid? Tough. Definitely tough.”

  Her Ryker? “Lady, you’re batshit crazy,” Zara muttered.

  Madison’s smile widened. “That settles the matter, then. I believe I know just the person you should spend time with.”

  Todd pushed away from the door. “I don’t want that sheriff around any of us. He’s not right in the head, and he needs to go back home.”

  Madison looked up and nodded. “I agree, but right now we don’t have a choice. He owns this land, and we need it for training.” Her gaze lightened. “Plus, he has certain proclivities, and I think he’d enjoy demonstrating those to Zara before he leaves town.” She lowered her voice to a husky whisper. “Do you think Ryker will accept you damaged?”

  Greg coughed. “Ryker will cut off your head, reach in, and discover firsthand that you don’t have a heart if you even think of harming Zara. You think I’m bad? Or my brothers? Ryker is fuckin’ crazy, lady.”

  Madison clapped her hands together once. “How wonderful. You’ve bonded with Ryker.” She frowned. “Let’s see. Ryker, Heath, and Denver were thick as could be. I’d wondered. I really did.” Her lips twisted. “Very similar to your brothers. Remember them?”

  “Yes. Are Chance, Kyle, and Wade still alive?” Greg spoke quickly as if he couldn’t stop himself, his voice cracking and his entire body going stiff. He held his breath at the last.

  Zara reached out and grabbed his hand to give him support and then held her breath, too.

  “Of course.” Triumph glittered in Madison’s eyes.

  Zara breathed out. Good. Joy nearly filled her to compete with the fear.

  Greg didn’t even twitch. “Where are they?”

  Oh, you’ll see them soon enough,” Madison said quietly. “I promise.”

  Greg sucked in air, and his chin went down. His head tilted to the side, and he stared intently at the doctor. A chill wafted through the room.

  “What?” Madison snapped.

  “You…you’ve lost them.” Wonder filled Greg’s voice. “They got away.” He glanced frantically around, his gaze landing on Todd. “Oh shit. This guy wouldn’t be here if…if… The commander is gone? You left him?”

  Madison paled. “Yes, he’s gone.”

  Greg swallowed and suddenly looked his young age again. “Dead?” His voice quivered.

  Madison nodded, sorrow in her eyes. “Yes.”

  Greg shook his head, his mouth dropping open. “I-I didn’t think he could die.”

  Zara shifted her weight in the chair. She needed to get the upper hand somehow. “Where are Greg’s brothers?”

  Madison arched one perfectly plucked eyebrow. “I don’t know, but they’ll come back for Greg here. Like I said: bait.”

  Greg chuckled, the sound full of joy. “No, they won’t. They’re gone, really gone.” He turned to Zara, his eyes alive fully. “They’re free, Zara. Can you believe it? They actually got away.”

  Madison slammed her hand down on the desk. “You’re about to be beaten, young man.”

  Zara caught her breath. She had to turn the focus away from the boy. “Are you with Todd here or with the sheriff? I mean, we know you and the sheriff bumped uglies years ago, so it has to be still going on, right? Are you seeing them both at the same time?” She kept her voice at a stage whisper.

  Madison drew back. “Of course not. Todd and I are together, and we share a glorious vision for the future. Don’t we, sweetheart?”

  Todd waited a moment to speak. “We better, woman.”

  Sparks flew from Madison’s eyes, but she kept her face in serene lines.

  Oh, that bitch had both men fooled, now, didn’t she? Zara lowered her chin, keeping her gaze on the scientist. “It doesn’t smell right to me. You wouldn’t be seeing both men and hiding it, now, would you?” The sharp rap to the back of her head had her crying out. Her skull ached, and her eyes bugged.

  “Thank you, Todd,” Madison said, sending him a beaming smile.

  Greg jumped up and turned to face Todd. “You ever think of touching her again, and I’ll take out your still-beating heart and eat it. Believe it or not, it wouldn’t be my first heart.”

  Man, the kid could be tough. But Todd was armed, and from the sound of things, he’d be just fine with shooting Greg. “Please sit back down,” Zara whispered.

  “That’s not necessary,” Madison said, rising from her chair. “Take them to different buildings this time.” She tilted her head to the side. “Sheriff Cobb and I will meet you, Zara, in yours after suppertime. He likes to inflict pain, and I’m finding myself looking forward to seeing how much you are able to endure.”

  Zara glared at the woman and shoved down fear. Her knees shook. God, how long would it take Ryker to get to her once he pinged her location?

  How much time did she have?

  Chapter

  36

  Heat exploded in Ryker’s chest, and part of him wanted to run fast and hard in the other direction. “Family?” He stared at them, noting their gray eyes and tightly packed bodies. “You’re fucked up.”

  Jory cut a look at Matt. “Jesus. Where to start?”

  Matt had jet black hair and square features. Jory had dark hair and a more angled bone structure. “With his name,” Matt said. “I’m not calling you Fred.”

  “Ryker.” Ryker’s knees itched, and he really wanted to sit down. “Why are you calling me family?”

  Jory blew out air and shook his head. “Dude. I need a beer for this conversation.”

  Ryker edged toward the door.

  “Stop,” Matt breathed out. “Get your phone, Jory. I saw you taking pictures during the ski lessons the other day.”

  Jory grabbed a phone from his back pocket and scrolled through it quickly. He tossed the phone to Ryker. “That’s Nate. He’s our brother.”

  Ryker easily caught the phone and stared into a face way too similar to his own. His stomach clenched and rolled. “What the hell?”

  “Your eyes aren’t gray, so we probably don’t share a father.” Matt glanced at Jory. “Maybe they share a mother? They’d have to, right?”

  Jory rubbed what looked like a damn strong jaw. “That’d be my guess. Dr. Madison liked to experiment with our lives, and I guess it make
s sense she’d use genetic material from women to make brothers, too.”

  “It’s like she threw a bunch of sperm in a salad spinner and just went for broke,” Matt muttered.

  “We should check his back,” Jory murmured.

  Matt eyed Ryker. “Think so?”

  Ryker took a step in the other direction. Sperm salad? “Excuse me?”

  Matt strode toward him, maneuvering around broken furniture. “Dr. Madison planted kill chips near our spines in order to control us, and we deactivated them. I doubt you’d still be alive if there’s a chip in you, but how about we just make sure?” He reached Ryker and grabbed the bottom of his shirt.

  “Hey.” Ryker slapped his hands. “Knock it off.”

  “Don’t be a baby.” Matt flipped him around and jerked his shirt up.

  Jory chuckled. “Get used to it. Unless you’re older? How old are you?”

  “Thirty-two.” Ryker kept still, mainly out of shock, as Matt probed his upper spine.

  Matt lowered the shirt. “Then you’re the same age as Nate. Maybe you’re twins? Fraternal since you have different eye color. You’re fine. No kill chip.” He turned Ryker around. “We have a lot to talk about.” As if he couldn’t help himself, he yanked Ryker in for a hard hug and a slap on the back before moving away. “I can’t believe we found you.”

  Ryker eyed Matt, his entire body short-circuiting. “You were looking?”

  Matt nodded. “A few months ago we discovered we might have other brothers, and we’ve been searching since.”

  “We?” Ryker asked.

  Jory grinned. “There are four of us. Matt, me, Shane, and Nate.”

  “Five now. Don’t forget Chance.” Matt ran a broad hand through his hair. “He’s quite a bit younger, and we found him a while back. Plus, he has other brothers as well. Dr. Madison liked to experiment with family units—so she created them. We’ll explain it all over drinks.”

  Experiments. Ryker leaned back against the wall, needing something solid to hold him up. “This is too much.”

  “Just wait,” Jory muttered. “How about we do this over a beer? Or a bottle of tequila? Just not here in this shithole.”