Shadowgame

'I'm sorry,' Roger apologized immediately. 'You're right. I don't have an excuse for being so unprofessional. I'm letting the colonel get to me. Colonel Higgens has been extremely difficult. Without your father around to provide some kind of a buffer, we're all…'

'I'll see what I can do to keep him out of here for a while,' she soothed.

'About your father…' Roger trailed off as she continued to look at him. 'It must be difficult for you,' he tried again.

Lily was monitoring his emotions as she had with the other technician. Roger had no idea how her father could have disappeared and he was desperate for his boss to return. She tilted her chin. 'Yes, it is difficult not knowing what happened to him. Take a break, Roger, you've earned it. I'll be here for some time. I'll beep you when I leave.'

Roger glanced around the room as if they might not be alone. He lowered his voice. 'He's getting stronger, Dr. Whitney.'

She followed his gaze toward the other side of the lab, waited a heartbeat, her mind assimilating the information. 'What gives you the impression he's growing stronger?'

Roger rubbed at his temples. 'I just know. He becomes very quiet when he's not pacing; he sits there, perfectly still, concentrating. The computers go crazy, alarms start going off, everyone scrambles, but it's a bogey. I know it's him. And I think he might be able to talk to the others.' He leaned closer still. 'Not only has he stopped with testing, but so have all the others. They aren't supposed to be able to communicate with the heavy glass and all, yet it's like they have a collective brain or something. No one is cooperating.'

'They're all isolated from one another.' Her hand went to her throat, her only sign of agitation. 'You've been in here cooped up with him too long. My father chose you because you're always so calm, but you're letting the talk spook you.'

'Maybe, but he's changing, and I don't like the way it feels. Your father's been gone over a week, Dr. Whitney, and Captain Miller is different. You'll see what I mean when you see him. When I'm with him, he feels invincible to me. I'm afraid to leave you alone with him. Maybe the guards should be here inside the lab with you.'

'That would only agitate him more, and you know he needs it quiet. The more people around him, the worse it is for him. He's been trained in the Special Forces, Roger, I'd say he's always had confidence in himself.' Lily rubbed the pad of her thumb over her lower lip. 'I'm perfectly safe with him.' Even as she said it, a shiver of fear crept down her spine. She wasn't certain it was the truth, but she managed to look serene, unconcerned.

Roger nodded, recognizing defeat. He scooped up his coat, hesitated at the door for one more warning. 'You call for help if you need it, Dr. Whitney.'

She nodded. 'I will, Roger, thanks.' Lily stared at the closed door for a full minute, allowing the breath to move slowly through her lungs, to allow the peace of the room to seep into her pores. The entire lab was soundproofed, free from all outside noises. She rubbed her hand over her face and took another deep breath before turning resolutely toward the partitioned room on the far side of the lab.

Captain Ryland Miller was waiting for her, pacing back and forth like a caged tiger. She knew he would be. He would have known the moment she entered the complex. His gray eyes were turbulent, angry, storm clouds betraying the violent emotion swirling beneath his expressionless mask. The force of his gaze penetrated straight through her body to her heart. They regarded one another through the thick glass of his cage. His dark hair was wild from his hands raking through it, but he took her breath away. He knew how to get to her, and he used the knowledge shamelessly.

Open it. The words shimmered in her mind, his ability to use telepathy growing stronger with each use.

Her heart began to pound. Obediently she pressed the required sequence of buttons to activate the mechanism. The heavy glass partition slid aside so he was left staring at her through the thick bars.

He moved with lightning speed. That surprised her, how fast he was. She had thought herself safe, out of his striking distance, but he caught her wrist and jerked her against the bars. 'You left me alone in here like some rat in a cage,' he snarled, his mouth pressed close to her ear.

Lily didn't struggle. 'Hardly a rat, more like a Bengal tiger.'

But her heart melted at the word 'alone.' The thought of him alone in his glass cage was heartbreaking.

When he continued to glare at her she sighed softly. 'You know I couldn't come back here without an official invitation. I received it this morning. If I had tried before that, they would have been suspicious. They had to ask me. I made certain I showed no interest at all, and don't pretend you don't know why.' She raised her voice, just enough to reach the recorders. 'I'm sure you must have heard my father has disappeared. The FBI suspect foul play. I have all of his projects and my own to take care of and with all the work here and at home too, I'm afraid my time is at a premium.' Deliberately she glanced up at the camera to remind him they were not alone.

'You think I don't know it's there?' He hissed the words, anger seething in the deep timbre of his voice. 'You think I don't know they watch me eat and sleep and piss? You should have come here immediately.'

Her eyebrow shot up. It was a struggle to keep her face without expression. Her gaze began to smolder. 'You're lucky I came at all, Captain Miller.' She made a supreme effort to keep her voice soft even when she really wanted to lash out at him. 'You know my father disappeared.' She lowered her voice even more. 'You were there with us, weren't you? How dare you be angry with me!' For one awful moment tears threatened and she fought them back.

His voice changed completely, dropping an octave so that it whispered in her mind, weaving them together as if they were bound in some way. You can't think I had anything to do with his death.

The intimacy in his tone robbed her of air. Worse, he was flooding her with warmth and comfort. His thumb was stroking small caresses along her sensitive inner wrist. She attempted again to jerk her arm away from him, the movement reflex, one of self-preservation. His fingers settled around her wrist like a shackle. His fingers were warm, enormously strong, yet he was very gentle.

'Don't fight, Lily, you'll have every guard in the compound running to save you.' There was an edge to his voice as if he couldn't quite make up his mind whether to laugh at the thought or be angry for the accusation in her mind.

Can you command from a distance, one human being to kill another? She refused to look away from him, staring directly into his eyes, speaking back to him in the same way, mind to mind. Can you do that?

Ryland couldn't look away from the deep blue of her eyes, a mirror reflecting his soul. He wasn't certain he wanted to see what she saw. And he wasn't certain he could afford for her to see him as he had become. There was so much raw anger seething in him.

The disembodied voice of the guard crackled over the speaker. 'Dr. Whitney, do you require assistance?'

'No, thank you, I'm perfectly fine.' Lily continued to stare into Ryland Miller's eyes. Challenging him. Accusing him. Seeing him.

His fingers still circled her wrist like a vise, yet his thumb feathered over her rapidly beating pulse, to soothe her. He said nothing, only continued to look at her.

Tell me. Can you do that?

What do you think?

She studied him for a long while, her gaze penetrating beyond his mask, seeing the predator prowling just below the surface. I think you can.

Maybe. Maybe it's possible if the person was already filled with malice and capable of killing, wanted to kill, it's possible I could manipulate them to do so.

I felt your dislike of him. You believed he put you here, that he was responsible for killing the men in your unit.

I'm not going to deny that, it would be a lie. But you're touching me. Read me, Lily. Did I have anything to do with your father's death?

Her blue eyes drifted over his face, returned to his glittering gray ones. Am I supposed to believe you can't hide your true nature from me? I see only what you want me to see.

I'm not shedding tears over his death, I'll give you that, but I did not order anyone to kill him.

'Peter Whitney was my father and I loved him. I'm crying over him.' And she was,