Unleashing the Storm by Sydney Croft Read Free Book Online Page B

she knew he didn’t really mean it.
    “I’ve
got to go upstairs,” Derek mumbled, pushed away from the table unsteadily.
    “I’ll
help you,” Kira offered, but Ender was already behind Derek. No fun if the guy
fell down the stairs and broke his own neck. He made sure he put an extra sway
in his step.
    “Do
you really think it’s the food?” she asked him.
    “How
do you feel?” he asked as he made a show of grabbing his stomach like he was
doubling over in pain.
    “I
feel fine,” she said as she stood. She took two steps and he noticed that her
gait was slightly off, that she held on to the back of the chair a little too
tightly. But she wasn’t nearly as bad as Derek.
    Speaking
of, there was a clatter on the steps as Derek lost his footing. Ender grabbed
him and half pushed him up the stairs, even as Derek lost consciousness by the
time they reached the top.
    “Everything
all right?” she called upstairs.
    “It
will be once this crumble crap gets out of our system. Dump it,” he called, and
then he smiled when he heard her mutter, “Fuck you.”
    He
shoved Derek through the door of his bedroom, got him to the bed and checked
his pulse. Guy was out cold, and would be until morning. Which gave Ender
plenty of time to decide his next move.
    He
reached into Derek’s pocket and pulled out the cell phone he knew Derek had. It
would be password protected, of course, but Ender had never known Bryan not to
break a password.
    He
took out his own cell and connected the two, dialed a line to Bryan and beamed
the information from Derek’s phone to Bryan through his. Didn’t even have to
talk to the guy—the magic of spy-shit capabilities. Within the hour, Bryan
would let him know the times Derek would need to check in to Itor, and the
special codes Ender would need in case he’d have to be the one to do it for
him.
    Normally
agents only had to check in once every forty-eight hours, if not less. Things
like making a suspicious phone call could severely compromise any undercover
operative’s mission, and he doubted Itor worked any differently than ACRO with
that pattern.
    Once
the file transfer was complete, he wiped the cell clean of his prints out of
habit, stuck it back in Derek’s pocket and did a quick sweep of the room to
make sure nothing had changed, especially the small monitor he’d rigged earlier
that day.
    More
spy-shit. Ender preferred good, old-fashioned guns.
    He
shut Derek’s door behind him, just in time to hear a loud crash come from the
kitchen. Dogs began barking and Babs was on her way up the stairs to get him
when he blew by her.
    “I’ve
got her,” he said, and wondered when the hell he’d started talking to animals.
     
    KIRA
LOOKED DOWN at the mess of dishes she’d dropped and wished she could peel
herself off the side of the fridge. Her feet seemed to have stopped working.
Her sense of balance had also become a casualty of whatever had affected Tom
and Derek. Maybe the curry had gone bad.
    And
dammit, she couldn’t feel her face.
    The sound
of pounding footsteps rattled in her head, and she smelled Tom before she saw
him.
    “What
happened?” He skidded to a stop before he plowed into the dinner dishes and the
dogs helping themselves to the scraps.
    “I’m
feeding the dogs,” she said, and blinked because her vision had gone fuzzy. “I
think the curry went bad. Need to throw it out.”
    Tom
bent to pick up some of the plates. “Could have been anything. How much
lemonade did you drink?”
    “Lemons
don’t go bad, silly.” She bit her lip. “Well, I guess they do…” She dragged
herself along the fridge toward the spice cabinet. Feet still wouldn’t work. “I
only had a sip.”
    He
craned his neck to peer up at her. “A sip?”
    “Uh-huh.
One teeny drink. A sip. If I had a dictionary I could look it up for you. Sip.”
    “It’s
okay.” Holding a pile of dishes, he stood and moved toward the sink.
    She
took a step. Her legs went, but her body stayed. A wave of