“This isn’t a request, Dr. Cambri,” he said, inches away, his aftershave coating her like a heavy blanket to make her pulse quicken. “Dr. Kalamack needs access to the mainframe to verify that the modifications you made to Daniel’s virus will hold through multiple generations.”
“Kalamack!” she exclaimed, her fear vanishing at the thought of the prideful snot in her office. Eyes darting, Trisk glanced past Rick to make sure the intercom was closed. “Does the enclave know about this?” she all but whispered, and Rick made an ugly face.
“Of course they do,” he said, as if she was being stupid. “He’s here to assist in the patent transfer of the T4 Angel tomato to Saladan Farms, but you will give him access to Dr. Plank’s tactical virus. Everyone wants to be sure it is safe before it goes into live trials, and that means a second opinion. Get that office cleared out by Monday. Stay late or come in this weekend if you need to, but get it done. And be at the welcome meeting at nine A.M. Monday morning, or I’ll bring the party down to your lab.”
Trisk jerked as Rick strode to the hallway door, almost looking as if he was fleeing. She knew the tweaks she’d made to Daniel’s virus were perfect. She’d checked the original code herself, taken steps to be sure the organism wouldn’t easily mutate. It wasn’t her universal donor virus, but it was clean. And Kal was coming to check it? Bullshit.
“Rales!” she shouted, but the door had already swung closed. Lips pressed, she yanked it open and strode out after him. He was halfway down the long hallway, moving fast. Quen had told her in his last letter to never follow a fleeing vampire, but he’d also told her the enclave was cutting off Kal’s funding. He was coming to steal credit for Daniel’s work. Either that, or hers. Or both. “Rales?” she called as she ran to catch up.
Rick spun, a savage, almost pained expression on his face, and Trisk slid to a frightened halt. “Are you following me, Dr. Cambri?” he all but rasped.
Breathless, she backed up. “Was it your idea or the enclave’s that Kal check my work?”
“The enclave’s,” he said, hunched as he looked at his clenched hands, exhaling as they opened. They were shaking, and Trisk put more space between them. “His findings will be going to the witches’ coven of moral and ethical standards through Saladan. The Weres have Colonel Wolfe as their representative, and the vampires have me. This is not a small matter, Dr. Cambri, and I’d advise you to cooperate with Dr. Kalamack and give him what he wants.” His eyes narrowed as his hands crooked into claws again. “I’d also advise you to stop following me.”
Damn. Every major Inderland species was involved, and she nodded her agreement, cursing herself for beginning to sweat. “Daniel’s virus is perfect,” she said, her thoughts going to her own secondary research on a universal donor virus. It was vulnerable and easy to steal if you knew where to look.
“Then there should be no problem.”
His closed-lipped smile chilled her, but she had been counting on her hidden contributions to Daniel’s virus to advance her reputation in the elven field. That would be gone if Kal claimed it as his own, and so she reached out, her hand falling before it touched him. “Wait,” she said as Rick began to turn away once more. “I know what is going on. This is Daniel’s virus. His research. I won’t let Kal put his name on it.”
Rick smirked. “I believe what the enclave said was ‘We’re not so foolish to allow a potentially deadly virus to reach the public without our best people vetting it.’ ”
“What?” she exclaimed, face warming. “Kalamack is a research-stealing hack who hasn’t had a unique thought since the third grade. I know, because I was there! Bring in someone else.”
Eyes pupil black, Rick leaned close. “I don’t care, Dr. Cambri,” he said, inches from her ear, his beautiful voice reaching deep into her and twisting until fear oozed out, thick and black into her veins. “My master and the rest of Inderland simply want a tactical virus that is what you say it is, and nothing more. Whose name is on it means zip.” He pulled away from her, and she began to breathe again. Turning, he walked away, lab coat furling and his steps loud on the tiled floor. “Cooperate with him!” he exclaimed, back hunched as if in pain.
Suddenly Trisk realized she was pressed up against the wall. She didn’t remember putting herself there. “Damn,” she whispered as Rick stiff-armed the security door open, his voice pleasant as he told George to have a good night. And then the door shut, and she was alone.
But the thought of Kal near her research was even more frightening than a living vampire fighting a thousand years of instinct to not break her skin. If Kal was coming here, it wasn’t to double-check her work, it was to steal it. And sure as spoiled boys grow up to be small men, the enclave would turn a blind eye. Everything she’d worked for would be gone. How many times, she wondered, is this going to happen before they give credit where credit is due?
Anger began to push out the lingering fear that Rick had instilled. She would not let Kalamack walk over her again. She’d finally gotten his footprints off her back from the last time. The enclave wouldn’t help her. Her father . . . no, she couldn’t ask him to fight her battles anymore. She was alone. But she had skills—skills she’d never dared use before.
Pace fast, she blew into her office, jerking to a stop when she almost ran into Angie. Her assistant was waiting for her, the clipboard in her hand clearly needing her signature. “Angie,” Trisk fumbled, wondering if the woman had seen Rick pin her to the hallway wall.