don’t you tell me what you know so far?”
She actually heard his jaw pop as he unclenched it. A little tense there, big guy?
“I know Mirabelle’s part in things, but I was locked on her, so I probably missed some pieces of the big picture.” He set down the soda with care, staring at his hands as he flexed and clenched them. Darla recognized the gesture from her own attempts to keep from demolishing her surroundings with a frustrated flick of superstrength.
“The table is polymer-reinforced if you need to hit something.”
Lucien’s head snapped up at that. “Must’ve cost a fucking mint.” And what a waste of the precious polymer , she heard beneath the words.
Darla’s chin tipped up a notch, pride making her next words sound even more pompous. “It was a gift. From Trident Labs. I helped them test the polymer, and they were grateful.”
Lucien snorted. “They would be. If you only got a table, you got screwed.”
Since the release of a series of super-related products—the most publicized and profitable being the anti-superstrength polymer—Trident Labs had become a billion-dollar company overnight. Darla decided not to mention her thank-you gift had also included enough stock to let her retire to Monte Carlo whenever the mood struck her.
Lucien apparently decided he didn’t need to test the table’s polymer with his fists. Instead he folded his hands and spoke, his voice low and intense. “To the best of my knowledge, it started a few months ago. Mirabelle was a sophomore in college this year. She seemed to have settled in nicely. Good grades. Good friends. Nothing to worry about, so I thought it was a safe time to take the work trip to Singapore I’d been planning.” At her raised brow, he gave a defensive shrug. “Even spawns have day jobs, Darla. I’m an engineer.”
Darla nearly choked on her soda. She barely stopped herself from blurting, Do all engineers wear black leather and I’m-even-better-than-I-look smirks?
“One of my colleagues in Singapore has been working on a new propulsion system. I wanted to take part in the project, but he wasn’t interested in collaborating unless I was willing to commit to being essentially locked up inside his lab for a year. His security made Area Nine look cozy.” His gaze flicked back to hers. “If you worked with Trident at all, you know how paranoid these guys can be about protecting their patents.”
“So you were totally out of touch. And…” she prompted.
He shook his head, raking a hand through his hair. “I wasn’t totally cut off. I got emails from Mirabelle, and at first everything seemed normal. Then…” Lucien rubbed both hands down his face. “I don’t know what it was, but she just started sounding different. A name I’d never heard before began popping up in her emails. Kevin . Mirabelle hadn’t decided on her major yet—she’s never been very decisive—but all of a sudden she was talking about purpose and callings and what she was meant to do with her life. I would’ve been excited, but there was something off about it. The words didn’t sound like they were coming from her. It was like she was one of those cult members who can only parrot what their prophet tells them. Kevin said became a constant refrain.”
Darla wished he would look up so she could see the fierce glint in his darker-than-sin eyes again, but Lucien stared down at his clenched hands. What would it be like to know those hands would always protect you? Mirabelle hadn’t known what a great deal she had.
“I knew something was wrong, but I…shit, I loved the project I was working on. We were really making strides. So I told myself it was all in my head. Until the emails stopped coming.”
Lucien’s knuckles were white with strain. Darla instinctively reached to put her hand over his, but tucked her hands back into her lap before he could see the comforting gesture. He wasn’t likely to appreciate her touch, considering that same hand had
She actually heard his jaw pop as he unclenched it. A little tense there, big guy?
“I know Mirabelle’s part in things, but I was locked on her, so I probably missed some pieces of the big picture.” He set down the soda with care, staring at his hands as he flexed and clenched them. Darla recognized the gesture from her own attempts to keep from demolishing her surroundings with a frustrated flick of superstrength.
“The table is polymer-reinforced if you need to hit something.”
Lucien’s head snapped up at that. “Must’ve cost a fucking mint.” And what a waste of the precious polymer , she heard beneath the words.
Darla’s chin tipped up a notch, pride making her next words sound even more pompous. “It was a gift. From Trident Labs. I helped them test the polymer, and they were grateful.”
Lucien snorted. “They would be. If you only got a table, you got screwed.”
Since the release of a series of super-related products—the most publicized and profitable being the anti-superstrength polymer—Trident Labs had become a billion-dollar company overnight. Darla decided not to mention her thank-you gift had also included enough stock to let her retire to Monte Carlo whenever the mood struck her.
Lucien apparently decided he didn’t need to test the table’s polymer with his fists. Instead he folded his hands and spoke, his voice low and intense. “To the best of my knowledge, it started a few months ago. Mirabelle was a sophomore in college this year. She seemed to have settled in nicely. Good grades. Good friends. Nothing to worry about, so I thought it was a safe time to take the work trip to Singapore I’d been planning.” At her raised brow, he gave a defensive shrug. “Even spawns have day jobs, Darla. I’m an engineer.”
Darla nearly choked on her soda. She barely stopped herself from blurting, Do all engineers wear black leather and I’m-even-better-than-I-look smirks?
“One of my colleagues in Singapore has been working on a new propulsion system. I wanted to take part in the project, but he wasn’t interested in collaborating unless I was willing to commit to being essentially locked up inside his lab for a year. His security made Area Nine look cozy.” His gaze flicked back to hers. “If you worked with Trident at all, you know how paranoid these guys can be about protecting their patents.”
“So you were totally out of touch. And…” she prompted.
He shook his head, raking a hand through his hair. “I wasn’t totally cut off. I got emails from Mirabelle, and at first everything seemed normal. Then…” Lucien rubbed both hands down his face. “I don’t know what it was, but she just started sounding different. A name I’d never heard before began popping up in her emails. Kevin . Mirabelle hadn’t decided on her major yet—she’s never been very decisive—but all of a sudden she was talking about purpose and callings and what she was meant to do with her life. I would’ve been excited, but there was something off about it. The words didn’t sound like they were coming from her. It was like she was one of those cult members who can only parrot what their prophet tells them. Kevin said became a constant refrain.”
Darla wished he would look up so she could see the fierce glint in his darker-than-sin eyes again, but Lucien stared down at his clenched hands. What would it be like to know those hands would always protect you? Mirabelle hadn’t known what a great deal she had.
“I knew something was wrong, but I…shit, I loved the project I was working on. We were really making strides. So I told myself it was all in my head. Until the emails stopped coming.”
Lucien’s knuckles were white with strain. Darla instinctively reached to put her hand over his, but tucked her hands back into her lap before he could see the comforting gesture. He wasn’t likely to appreciate her touch, considering that same hand had
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