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voice.
    Lucas looked to Tristan, catching his gaze in the rear-view mirror.
    Tristan shook his head once, apologising silently with his eyes.
    Lucas sighed and glanced back to Abigail.
    She frowned at him, seeming to have caught the exchange between the two men.
    “I don’t believe this, I trusted you!”
    “Abby, please,” he pleaded. “We have a lot of questions, and you need to be checked out by a doctor—we have medics on staff. We can’t just let you go, surely you understand that? Even if the police had found you wrongfully imprisoned you’d have had to go to the station, make a statement, answer questions and they’d need to write reports. This is no different really.”
    She eyed him distrustfully, but his reasoning seemed to give her pause. She turned her head to stare out of the window, her jaw and shoulders set in a stubborn line.
    “How long will you gentlemen need me to answer your questions?” she asked without turning around.
    Lucas didn’t know whether she was plotting and didn’t want him to read it in her eyes, or whether she truly couldn’t face him. Either option sat uneasily in his stomach. They both had their own pitfalls.
    He shrugged in a slightly defensive gesture, though it was lost on her.
    “I couldn’t answer that with honesty,” he explained. “Almost certainly hours, but it could be much longer if things aren’t safe.”
    “What do you mean?” She continued to keep her face averted, staring at the passing streets.
    “Abby, you’ve been injected with a vaccine we have no knowledge about. We believe all of the other subjects have died from it and—”
    “You said that before, back in the clinic,” she interjected, whirling around to face him with a frown on her face. “What vaccine? What other ‘subjects’? What the hell is going on?”
    Lucas sighed and held up a hand to stem her rising questions. Briefly, he explained.
    “An audit of a traitor within our agency discovered her putting money into work with Dr Harper which they’d labelled ‘Project Immunity’. We found a list of nine names, one of them being yours. Further investigation gave us a sample of your blood, recently taken at Dr Harper’s clinic. We tested it and found it full of many diseases and pathogens. Dr Harper had been injecting you regularly with a vaccine, presumably to withstand these diseases and heighten your immune system. We found three other case files of his other patients, all of whom have died in recent months. Dr Harper has gone to ground, our traitor isn’t talking and a few hours ago we discovered Harper had forcibly committed you and we instigated your rescue. That’s where we’re at and you can understand the kinds of questions that are floating around.”
    Abigail shook her head, clearly speechless.
    Lucas gave her a moment to gather herself, noticing Tristan periodically glancing at them both in the mirror. A minute ticked by before she finally spoke again.
    “I’m mildly anaemic,” she stated dully. “When my regular doctor changed clinics I saw Dr Harper by chance, he was merely the pool doctor who took my consultation when my appointment came up. He ordered a blood test—which is quite common to check the level of my haemoglobin—and a few days later when the results came in he gave me a shot, insisting I come back in three months’ time for another one. The following time he gave me a shot first and then took a blood test a few days later to check my levels were still acceptable and it’s been like that the few times I’ve been there since.”
    “It won’t hurt you to get checked over,” Lucas urged her.
    She twisted her hands together on her lap.
    Needing to comfort her, he placed his hand lightly on top of hers. When she didn’t pull away a warmth surged through him. Possessiveness consumed him. He loved touching her, even chastely like this.
    “Come back with us, let the medics check you over and make certain you’re out of danger. Tristan and I can