Full Moon Rising

His silver eyes gave nothing away

“Tell me why you had a file bearing the name Genoveve Confectionary on your desk a year ago.”

“It was a company I was considering buying.” He raised a pale eyebrow. “You have a very good memory.”

“Exceptional, considering the circumstances.”

The smile that played across his lips was at odds with the ice of his gaze

“And did you?” I prompted, when he didn’t say anything

“No.”

“Who did?”

“Konane.”

“The same company who owns Moneisha?”

“Yes.”

I flipped the cap off the beer and took a long drink before asking, “So who is the owner of Konane?”

He smiled. “Try another question.”

His expression said he’d tell me. Eventually. I wondered how many hours’ “payment” he would exact before he did. “So what has chocolate and research got in common?”

“Maybe the owner was simply diversifying his portfolio.”

Something in the way he said that itched at my instincts. “You don’t believe that.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

He leaned back in his seat and studied me for a second, his expression both arrogant and amused. “Because the owner of Konane and I share similar interests, and have, in the past, been business partners.”

I forced a smile. “You never told me you were interested in chocolate.”

There was something cold and hard about his expression. I had the strangest feeling that this man, the man who had taken me so ruthlessly that night, was the real Misha. That the Misha I’d been allowed to see the previous twelve months was merely a means to an end. What that end was I had no idea, but had a bad feeling I’d better find out

I lowered my shields and reached out with my mind. I wasn’t surprised to hit a wall around his thoughts—but it wasn’t electronic. His shield was as natural as mine and just as strong

I took another drink of beer and tried to ignore the urge to leave. I had a job to do, and besides, the moon still burned through my blood

“It wasn’t the chocolate that caught our interest,” he said softly, “but the fact that Genoveve was supposedly built over the top of a military installation.”

Would the plans in Alan Brown’s office match the installation Genoveve was supposedly sitting on? Probably. “I’ve read about the World War II tu

“No one knew about those tu

If the plans had been destroyed, how had Alan Brown gotten hold of them? And why hadn’t he destroyed them? I finished my beer and pushed the bottle away. “So why would you think there’s any truth to the rumor about what’s under Genoveve?”

“Because I talked to the man who found an entrance. As did the man who owned Konane.”

“So why does an old military installation hold such fascination to you and the owner of Konane?”

“Because the search for perfection sometimes takes roads the government does not approve of, and in such cases, it is best if the search is conducted in secret.”

Oh God… Was he saying what I thought he was saying?

He smiled. “I am not involved in Genoveve or the research being done on nonhuman cloning.”

“I only have your word on that, and right now, I’m not inclined to trust it.”

“I swear on the life of my mother, I have told no lies here tonight.”

No lies, but had he told the absolute truth? I had a feeling the answer was no. “So, you have absolutely nothing to do with cloning?”

Amusement momentarily danced in his eyes. “I am not involved, in any way, with the current cloning endeavors. If you want an honest opinion, I ca

“You ca

“True. But right now, it is research that is simply throwing good money after bad. How many years has man being trying to clone himself? Where has it led? He can now create imperfect or sickly images of himself every fifty or so attempts.”

“The body-part farming came out of the cloning research, and that in itself is very profitable.”

He shrugged. “Only marginally. The government has a tight fist on marketing and research.”

But the black market was booming, and the government was having little luck stopping it. “So what research were you pla

He smiled. “My companies, like many others, are seeking to unravel the secrets of a vampire’s long life. There is a fortune to be made with such knowledge.”

That was an understatement, given the human fixation with youth. “So, when you said Moneisha had been successful in pinpointing the cluster of genes that make a vampire a vampire, you were actually talking about your own research?”

“In part. I was trying to discover how much you suspected.”

“Why?”

He studied me for a moment, then said, “Because I was told to.”

I raised my eyebrows. I really couldn’t see Misha bowing to the rule of another, but then, what did I really know about him? “Who by?”

He merely smiled. I changed direction again

“Have you succeeded in pinpointing the vampire genes?”

“In part.”

I studied him for a moment. “Research like that doesn’t need to be conducted in a secret installation.”

“It does when your test subjects are unwilling participants.”

“You’re snatching vamps off the street?”

“No. I intended to, simply because the government’s recent regulations have made it tough to get enough skin and blood to conduct research. But I never bought Genoveve, simply because I was outbid. All my companies conform to regulations.”

Currently conform, he meant. But I had a suspicion they wouldn’t in the future. “You know Jack will check.”

He shrugged. “He will find nothing out of order.”

“And is the vampire research all that your companies do?”

He smiled. “No.”

“Then what?”

“My companies partner several others in drug research.”

What was the betting he had a finger in the pie that had made ARC1-23? “Does that mean you knew all about Talon trying to impregnate me?”

Again amusement glittered in his eyes. “Yes.”

Anger whipped through me, and my fingers clenched. “And you approve?”

“No.”

“Then why the hell didn’t you warn me?”

“Because again, I was warned not to.”

I snorted softly. “And you never go against orders? Bullshit, Misha.”

“There are lots of things happening you don’t understand. Lots of restrictions on me that I ca

That raised my eyebrows. “Care to explain that sweeping statement?”

“Not yet.”

I blew out a breath and thought about the bits and pieces he’d told me over the last few days. “You told me to imagine the supersoldier you could build if you could have all of a vamp’s abilities and none of the restrictions. Is that what you’re doing? Trying to build a supersoldier by crossing human and vampire genes?”

“Perhaps.” He smiled idly

“Then what about hybrid nonhumans?”

“What about them?”

“Are you involved in creating them?”

“I’ve already said no.”

There wasn’t a flicker in his face or his eyes, and yet I sensed that he’d just told his first outright lie. “Then you know nothing about an attack that occurred shortly after I’d been speaking to you on the phone.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I want to fuck you, not kill you.”

I leaned back, partially wanting to trust him but mostly not. “That didn’t answer my question.”

“Yes, it did.” He hesitated. “I actually tried to warn you, but you hung up.”

“So you knew about the attack in the graveyard?”