Page 1 of Protect Me

Chapter One

Talia

Imentally runthrough my to-do list, pleased with the outcome.Laundry folded and waiting to be put away.Dishwasher unloaded.All other household tasks complete with the afternoon to spare.I rarely take more than one day off a week from my job at Newton Laboratories, so chores tend to pile up.

Not that I have anything else to do.Work comes first, and it usually leaves little time for anything… or anyone else.I’m not complaining.I happily live and breathe my research.

I carry the full laundry basket into the bedroom, placing it on the bed just as my cell phone rings.My assistant’s name flashes on the screen, and I answer his call.

“Hi, Chris.”

Christopher Eldridge is the best assistant I’ve ever had.He works the same long hours I do without complaint and is as dedicated to our current research as I am.Although my reasons are more personal.

“Chris?”I say again when he remains silent, only the sound of breathing on the other end.

“I’m at the lab, and something’s wrong,” he says in a hushed whisper that isn’t at all like his normal moderate tone.

I narrow my gaze.“What is it?What’s going on?”

“Someone else is here, and everything is—” Dead silence follows.

“Chris?”I ask again, but the call obviously was cut off.

That is odd, I think, nerves prickling along my skin.It isn’t unusual for Chris or me to go into work on a Sunday, but his low, raspy voice and the panicked tone, along with the insistence that something is wrong, aren’t normal at all.

I wish I wasn’t so paranoid, but I come by it naturally.My mentor, Dr.Jonah Goodwin, was suspicious to the extreme, and he hammered into me the need to take precautions with every experiment and piece of work I am involved in.Especially now that I’ve had success at last.It is that sense of caution and unease that has me hitting redial and calling Chris back.

Twice.

But voicemail picks up immediately each time.

I hang up and tap the phone on the edge of the rubber basket, more than a little concerned.Is something wrong with our work?Could it be a problem with the last of the experiments we worked on before finalizing the formula?Possible, but he also said someone isthere… nothing makes sense.

I bite down on my lower lip and decide to head over to the office and see what is going on for myself.Leaving my laundry on the bed, I grab my bag off the counter, pick up my keys and entry card, and climb into my car.

I live in an apartment close to the lab in the Arts District in downtown Dallas, and on a Sunday, I make it to the building, also downtown, in no time.The parking lot is nearly deserted, which I expect on the last day of the weekend.I see Chris’s Prius in his usual spot, but there is no sign of my assistant.

I pull my car to an empty location near the door and rush inside, expecting to find the security guard at his usual post, but his seat is empty.Damnit.I wanted him to accompany me to the lab, in case something really is wrong, as Chris said.

I glance around, but other than the tall potted plants lining the glass entryway, I am alone.Which can be explained by a possible bathroom break for the guard…if I ignore the tingling inside me that began with Chris’s panicked, dropped call.

I have to see for myself.I swipe the card that lets me past the metal barriers and head into the elevators that take me to the fourth floor, where my lab is located.The doors open to a quiet, empty floor.This is never a busy hallway during the week, so the silence doesn’t alarm me on the weekend.

I round the corner and reach my workshop.I glance through the window and am struck dumb by the sight.My computers on the countertops are gone.Experiment tables with microscopes and other equipment for my research, missing.Stark white walls and clean countertops gleam through the glass, mocking me.

My heart begins to pound hard in my chest, and I debate what to do.Chris is nowhere to be found, and suddenly going inside the lab doesn’t seem smart, so I back away from the door, just as the elevator around the corner dings.

A man’s voice sounds from around the corner.“I know she’s here.Maybe I can trap her in the lab.”

Shit.I have to get out of here.I start down the hall, in the opposite direction from the elevators, checking over my shoulder as I make my way to the stairwell.I push open the door just as the man’s voice sounds again.

“No, I don’t see her yet.”

I step into the protection of the hall by the stairs and peek out, but I don’t recognize the man in the dark suit.Fear rushes through me, and perspiration dampens my skin beneath my shirt.

I duck out of sight and listen because I need some kind of information to know what the hell is going on.What I am dealing with.

“I still don’t see her,” he says from his position at the lab.“But she’s in the building.Send backup.”