Harder Than Steel Page 2

  A waft of burnt toast and bacon met him a wave, causing his cerulean eyes to tear but before he could emit a cough, a shrill but chipper voice called out to him.

  “Hello, Handsome! Are you all by your lonesome?”

  When his vision cleared, his gaze rested on a shockingly attractive waitress. She was in her mid-forties with the thirsty look of a cougar in her glimmering eyes.

  “I am,” Roan conceded and her grin widened.

  “How unlucky for someone else,” she purred. “And lucky for me. Have a seat anywhere you like. This ain’t our busiest time.”

  He looked around at the tired looking men, four in total, all absorbed in their own thoughts and paying him no mind.

  Roan ambled toward a booth in the far corner and the sexy redhead followed after him. Through his peripheral vision, he caught the swing of her hips and he stifled a sigh.

  She wasn’t quite old enough to be his mother but only by a couple years.

  Older women are the most fun, he reminded himself but instantly shut off the thought. This was not Vegas. This was a job and he couldn’t afford to lose focus.

  “Where are you from, sugar?”

  “New Jersey,” Roan lied. “But I come up here every year.”

  Her eyebrows arched, a bemused smile touching her lips.

  “During the off-season?” she asked lightly, reaching over him to pour a cup of coffee from the urn she held in her left hand. “I don’t think I ever saw you before.”

  “Hm.”

  Roan pretended to read the menu but he could feel her staring at him questioningly. He knew better than to provide unnecessary information. This was not his first rodeo and if things went south, he didn’t want anything to accidentally tie him back there.

  “Why don’t I give you a minute, honey,” she purred, sashaying away and Roan couldn’t help himself from eyeing her round ass as she did.

  Maybe I really should come back here on vacation sometime, he mused but he knew he never would.

  He focussed on the menu, ignoring his stomach as it continued to hiss at him.

  His mind wandered slightly, his eyes traveling toward the wide windows to stare into the trees.

  The locals must know about that warehouse. I found it easily enough. I wonder if they can shed some light on what they think it is.

  Slowly, he shifted his gaze back toward the waitress, noting the name patched onto the baby blue of her uniform.

  “Helen,” he called, waving a hand at her. She hurried toward him, a beguiling smile curling on her lips again.

  “What’ll it be, honey?”

  “I haven’t decided yet,” he replied. “Can you help me?”

  It was the right question to ask and her face lit up as she leaned her bust over him as if she was staring at the menu that she’d undoubtedly memorized since 1999.

  “Well, you’re a big boy,” she murmured. “How’s your appetite?”

  “Voracious,” he replied, meeting her eyes evenly. “Insatiable.”

  Pink tinged her cheeks and she beamed.

  “I had a feeling about you.” She pointed, further pushing her ample chest into his face. She pointed at the menu, “I would get a Big Slam Burger. I’ll have Barry put on some extras for you too.”

  Big Slam, huh? Works for me.

  “Sounds perfect, Helen, thank you.”

  She giggled and turned away but Roan called out to her before she could wriggle off again.

  “Helen, what is that big warehouse out there in the woods?”

  Roan did not imagine the instant change in atmosphere. A chill seemed to sweep through the diner and even without looking, he could feel all eyes on him.

  I guess they were paying attention after all, Roan mused but he didn’t break his curious gaze from Helen’s face.

  Helen’s grin faded away, her eyes hardening.

  “I don’t know what yer talkin’ about,” she replied sharply, spinning away and leaving Roan to contemplate her reaction.

  His eyes darted around the restaurant and suddenly, all the men were fixed on him, their hostility almost palpable.

  This is good. This means I’m onto something big. Just don’t push your luck.

  When Helen returned, her mood had changed significantly as she dropped the plate with the burger before him unceremoniously.

  “Helen,” he said when she didn’t speak. “Did I say something wrong?”

  Her mouth curled into a sneer.

  “It’s just like I told the other one,” she snapped. “I don’t know nothing about it.”

  She went to move away but Roan’s interest was far too piqued to drop it, even though he knew it was the wisest thing to do.

  “I’m afraid I don’t understand,” he said pleadingly, catching her eyes with his. He wore his best expression of innocence, even though his heart was hammering in his chest.

  What other one? Who else was in here asking about the warehouse?

  “I just thought that maybe I might apply for a job around here if they were hiring. I feel really at peace around here. I could see myself settling down here but it would be a hell of a commute if I couldn’t find work.”

  He looked at her suggestively, hoping his masculinity would be enough to sway her. Helen’s face softened slightly but she still wore a guarded look.

  “Oh,” she muttered but she looked uneasily around. The others in the diner seemed to be glaring daggers in her direction. “No, honey. I don’t think they’re hiring. It’s…it ain’t open to the public.”

  “Oh,” Roan sighed with faux disappointment. “So much for that idea.”

  He flashed her a warm smile and grabbed his napkin to place over his lap.

  “This looks amazing. Thanks, Helen.”

  Relief colored her face as she realized that he wasn’t pushing the issue but Roan had everything he needed for the moment.

  The locals are in on whatever’s happening over there and someone else has been poking around. Maybe I should stick around for a few days and see what else I can find out.

  That would depend on what, if anything, he found in the warehouse.

  We’ll call that plan B.

  Roan wolfed down the food with gusto, noting that despite the stale smell of burned beef in the air, the meal was quite good.

  He left a generous tip for Helen and nodded amiably on his way out. She begrudgingly bobbed her head, apparently no longer perceiving him as a threat.

  I can’t have been the first person to ask about the place. Remote as it is, hunters must have come across it in the past. The key is to not arouse suspicion.

  “Honey!” Helen yelled after him as he unlocked the Range Rover. Roan turned in surprise and mustered a smile.

  “Did I forget something?” He asked, tapping his pockets to feel for his wallet. Everything was in place. She shook her head and glanced nervously over her shoulder.

  “I just wanted to tell you to stay away from that place, all right?” Roan feigned confusion.

  “The diner?” he asked, pretending to look hurt. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

  “No!” she laughed but her eyes were shadowed with worry. “You can come back here any time. I meant the warehouse. It…it ain’t a good place to be.”

  Roan’s brows furrowed.

  “It’s just a building,” he chuckled but the hairs on the back of his neck rose as he heard the underlying panic in her voice. “Isn’t it?”

  “It ain’t. And you should stay away.”

  It was all she had to say on the matter.

  “Hope to see you again soon,” she cooed, waving flirtatiously. Roan slid into the driver’s side and returned her wave but his mind was racing.

  Well, he thought with excitement. It’s good to know this wasn’t just another wasted trip.

  Night had never been blacker than it was in the dense coverage of the forest that night. If not for the angled spotlights surrounding the warehouse, Roan was sure he would have fallen face first into the electrified fence surr
ounding the building.

  What the hell are they hiding in there that they need an electric fence edged in barbed wire?

  If the barrier hadn’t been electric, the entire issue of breaking in would be moot. The darkness would shield him as he went nearly invisible to cross through the chains but that wouldn’t protect him from the shocks.

  Why can’t I be impervious to pain like Coy? That would be useful right about now.

  Of course, there was so much that he could do that his cousin could not.

  He was just going to have to figure out how to make that happen.

  There were two options, really.

  One, he would need to create a diversion which would force the guards to open the gates so that he could slip in, unnoticed with his invisibility. If that failed, he would have to put himself into a primal state to ignite his super-strength to take them on in combat.

  Or I could just disassemble them until I’m done poking around and put them back together, a little voice in his head offered, but Roan shut it down. Disassembling their atomic make-up was too unstable an idea, even in theory. Never mind he had never done it to a living being in his life.

  Thanks for that, Dad.

  It didn’t matter—no one needed to get hurt unless absolutely necessary. After all, he wasn’t a hundred percent sure they were even dealing with Oculus.

  He sprung from his position in the bushes, rushing toward the front entrance where he fell away into nothingness as he neared. The rustle of his huge frame in the trees instantly caught the attention of the guards but they couldn’t see him watching their every move.

  “Something’s out there!” one called. “Is it a bear?”

  Roan darted back, making as much noise as he could, his eyes fixated on them as the two armed men looked at each other.

  “What the hell is that, Carey?” the bigger one muttered. “God dammit, I hate this shift.”

  Carey grunted something which sounded like an agreement. Roan took the opportunity to create more havoc, his pulse racing as the smaller one, Carey, raised his assault rifle.

  “It’s a bear. It has to be a bear.”

  Oh for Christ’s sake. Open the fucking gate! Roan groaned to himself and to his relief, the guards seemed to have the same idea.

  Roan was waiting as Carey fumbled with his key card to deactivate the lock. The door swung inward slowly and Roan was inside as the two men went out to investigate.

  With a final look behind him, Roan chuckled and stole away toward the building, his transparency fading. He would need to recharge before he could do that again but it didn’t matter.

  He was in.

  Chapter 2

  From what he had gleaned, there were four guards in total at night. The two he had seen at the front and two who rotated between inside the massive structure and the back facing the black woods behind.

  Roan’s palms were sweating as he walked through the locked door, his body whooshing with the effort. He had no way of knowing where the other two men were located at that moment, but he wasn’t going to waste a minute second-guessing himself.

  He wanted to be in and out as quickly as possible. There was no point in prolonging when he had no idea what he was about to find.

  You’re not going to find out anything by standing around.

  Pulling the burner from his pocket, he gripped it firmly in his hand, prepared to take photos wherever necessary, but thus far, he could only see rows upon rows of shelving, not unlike a police storage locker.

  What have we here? He wondered, slowly walking through the sickly yellow light of the corridors, his brow furrowing. But there seemed to be little other than files lining the shelves and Roan found himself disappointed, although he wasn’t sure what else he was really expecting.

  May as well see what’s so important that it needs to be guarded with four AK-47s.

  He paused and reached for one of the storage boxes, pulling it forward to peer inside. As he pried open the lid, a flash of movement caught his eye and he tensed, whipping around, ready for an attack but no one was behind him.

  But someone was definitely there. He could sense the other body.

  Shit.

  Even if he’d had the strength to go invisible again (which he didn’t—not yet), he was sure he’d already been seen. It was only a matter of seconds before the alarms were sounded and he was surrounded.

  Double shit!

  There was only one thing to do—he had to find out who had seen him and incapacitate him.

  His legs sprinted forward, adrenaline kicking in as Roan tried to work himself into a frenzy. It would be difficult to take on an AK-47 without help and if he ever needed his strength, it was then.

  Through the rows he raced, somehow managing to keep the heavy tread of his boots from echoing through the silent warehouse.

  This Goddamned silence.

  Idly it occurred to him that his loathing of the quiet had more to do with the unknown than anything but it wasn’t exactly the time for a psychoanalysis.

  He rounded the third row, catching a flash of dark cloth as he did and with an extra burst of energy, he lunged forward, tackling the dark-clad man to the ground.

  A gust of wind escaped his lungs as he struggled against Roan but the effort was futile. Roan sat firmly on his back, preventing him from moving.

  “Shh,” Roan whispered. “Don’t make me kill you.”

  Instantly, the body beneath him went still and Roan’s mind raced.

  Something wasn’t right.

  The other intruder wasn’t a guard or at least he wasn’t dressed the same as the others.

  He wore black from head to toe, his head covered in a balaclava, indicating to Roan that he, too, did not belong in the warehouse.

  You have got to be shitting me. What are the chances that two of us broke in on the same night?

  He remembered the waitress talking about someone else who had come.

  “Who are you?” he whispered, dropping his head toward the man. “What are you doing here?”

  He grunted and to Roan’s shock, he bucked up. The motion caught Roan off guard, causing him to buckle backward. Before he could regain his composure, the man in black was on the move again.

  “Stop!” he barked out before he could stop himself, realizing a moment too late that the noise would cause the guards to converge on them. He groaned, springing forward to chase again.

  The sudden clang of doors opening made him roll his eyes in frustration, but he couldn’t leave the masked man uncaptured. He’d seen Roan’s face, and therefore, he couldn’t be left behind.

  In seconds, Roan was on his tail again but they were no longer alone.

  “Who’s there?” someone yelled out. “You will be shot and killed if you don’t surrender.”

  We’ll be shot and killed anyway, Roan thought grimly, reaching out to snatch the black hood back again.

  He fell against Roan, his fist swinging.

  What the fuck am I supposed to do with this guy?

  With the guards gaining, Roan knew he had only one choice—he’d have to knock this idiot out and get them both the hell out of there before they were caught.

  “Sorry about this,” he muttered, clocking the much smaller man against the head with his elbow. Instantly, the figure crumbled in his arms.

  Roan draped the man over his shoulders and began to run, ducking away from the sound of footsteps approaching.

  Can I do this? Get us both out of here safely?

  He knew he could disassemble himself, but the stranger? There was a fifty-fifty chance that he wouldn’t survive the atomic disruption.

  If he stays, he dies anyway—and he might sell me out first.

  The steps were too close now and Roan knew what he had to do.

  He just prayed that he didn’t kill the poor bastard in the process.

  The only glimmer of hope that he could muster was that he felt the weight of the unconscious man on his shoulders. Thankfully, the intruder was slight and
didn’t take much effort to lug through the trees. It wasn’t until the sound of loud voices was heard distinctly in the background, that Roan paused to catch his breath in the thick of the woods.

  Sweat dripped from his face, he noted with relief that the man in black was still in one piece.

  Going to assume he’s still alive, Roan thought, but even in the darkness, he could see the faint rising and fall of his chest against the pine needles.

  Jesus, he feels like a teenager – all gangly and skinny. What the hell was a kid doing breaking into a warehouse in the middle of the damn night?

  Leave him here and go. You got him out alive and if they find him, they won’t believe anything he says – hopefully. Go now! Before he wakes up.

  It was the sensible thing to do, and despite the guilt swirling in his gut, he was prepared to do it…except for the fact that he had brought suspicion on himself earlier at the diner.

  Fuck. What if he’s captured and gives my description? They’ll ask around town about someone who looks like me and this is a small place. I’ll be found in no time.

  Granted, he’d used precautions renting the cabin, but he’d stupidly used his own car. It wouldn’t be hard for someone to find him if they were determined enough.

  And Oculus is more than determined. They’re fanatical.

  A slow moan emanated through the cloth of the balaclava the man wore, and Roan dropped to his knees.

  What the hell am I going to do with this bastard?

  He knew what he should do, but Roan wasn’t a killer, no matter how much Drake had tried to instill that virtue into him from a young age.

  “The day will come when you’ll have to kill to protect yourself or one of us,” Drake had warned him.

  But Roan knew that today was not going to be that day. The mini intruder had been disarmed. He was no threat, and for all Roan knew, he was just another victim of Oculus, looking for answers.

  Again, assuming that warehouse belongs to Oculus.

  “Fuck me,” he sighed, raising his head to look around, his ears honed to listen for signs of the guards nearing.

  Another whimper met his ears and Roan knew they had to keep moving before the guy regained consciousness and started fighting again. Roan didn’t particularly want to knock him out again and if they didn’t make it to the car, he knew he wouldn’t have a choice.