Page 42 of Whispers in the Quarter

“The most fascinatingaspect of chemical transformation,” I tell my unconscious guest, carefully adjusting his IV drip, “is watching the moment a compound fundamentally changes its nature.”

Ethan stirs slightly on my lab table, the restraints barely necessary given the cocktail of compounds currently rewriting his neural pathways. He’s really been quite a cooperative test subject. Then again, the best ones usually break beautifully.

“You see, my dear Saint,” I continue, checking his vital signs with perhaps too much enthusiasm, “some solutions requireperfect timing. Like your evolution from law-abiding agent to something far more interesting.”

My phone buzzes. My Chimera’s name lights up the screen, and oh, what delicious irony that she’s planning an elaborate trap for a man currently experiencing chemical enlightenment in my private lab.

“Timing,” I giggle to Ethan’s unconscious form. “Is absolutely everything.”

I silence my phone and turn back to my work, humming softly as I prepare the next stage of Ethan’s transformation. The syringe glints under the harsh lab lights as I fill it with a carefully crafted neurotransmitter cocktail.

“You know, Ethan,” I muse, tapping the syringe to remove air bubbles, “I’ve always found it amusing how society clings to its rigid notions of right and wrong. As if morality were some immutable law of the universe.”

I lean in close, my lips nearly brushing his ear as I whisper, “But you and I know better, don’t we? Morality is just another chemical reaction waiting to be manipulated.”

Something whispers across my senses.

Heels. On tile.

Could it be?

My breath catches, a mixture of excitement and wariness coursing through my veins. I hadn’t expected her so soon. Quickly I shut the door to Ethan’s little room and sit at my desk.

Normal. All is normal.

Act normal.Impossible.

The click of heels grows louder, more insistent. There’s a pause, then three sharp knocks. My lips curl into a smile.

“Your molecules feel troubled tonight, my Chimera,” I purr as she appears in my doorway, unexpected but never unwelcome. I quickly close the monitor showing Ethan’s vitalsigns. “Shouldn’t you be preparing for our little performance at Jazz’s club?”

“Something feels wrong.” She moves into my lab like smoke, dangerous and beautiful. “Your texts, Ethan’s absence... you’re up to something, aren’t you?”

I spin in my chair, unable to suppress my manic grin. “I’m always up to something, darling. The real question is...” I stand, moving into her space, “why are you really here?”

The sound of a monitor beeping from my private lab makes her tilt her head. “What kind of experiments are you running tonight, Lucas?”

“Oh, the most fascinating kind.” I back her against my desk, enjoying how she lets me cage her there. “The kind that fundamentally changes a person’s nature. Rather like what you do to me, my gorgeous catalyst.”

“Lucas...” But her warning tone dissolves into something else as I trail kisses down her neck. “We shouldn’t... the plans...”

“Can wait,” I murmur against her skin. “Science demands observation, after all. And you, my Chimera, are my favorite subject to study.”

Her hands find my lab coat lapels, whether to push me away or pull me closer, she hasn’t decided yet. “When you’re like this...” she breathes, “all brilliant chaos and barely contained explosion...”

“Does it frighten you?” I nip at her pulse point, cataloging her biochemical responses with professional fascination. “Or excite you?”

“Both,” she admits as my hands find her hips. From the other room, another monitor beeps, and I feel her tense. “Lucas, what aren’t you telling me?”

“Shhh,” I capture her mouth, swallowing her questions. “Let me show you something more interesting instead.”

I lift her onto my desk, sending papers scattering—evidence of her crimes, of Ethan’s investigation, of all the dangerous games we’re playing. Her legs wrap around my waist as I press closer, and oh, the sounds she makes are better than any chemical reaction.

“Someone could come in,” she protests weakly, even as her fingers work on my shirt buttons.

I laugh against her throat. “My dear, I always lock up when conducting delicate experiments.” My hand slides up her thigh, pushing this sexy little dress out of the way, and she arches beautifully. “And you, my Chimera, are my most volatile compound.”

A particularly loud beep from the other room makes her pull back slightly. “What kind of experiment needs that much monitoring?”

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