Illicit Intuitions: Sensory Ops, Book 3 Read Online Free Page A

having more.”
    “Do you know Channing Harris or Trevor Masters?”
    All right. That made twice in one day Channing’s name had been tossed out at him. Neither were coincidences.
    Calculating the time elapsed between his call with Max and now, he figured it was possible they’d been led to him. They could have bugged Max’s phone. Max could be an informant. There could be another spy within Sirrahmax—a replacement for Janus’s pet student, Jefferson. He wouldn’t put it past the government to claim he was in danger for the sake of planting someone to protect him only to get close enough to become the threat.
    H could find out if their intentions were dangerous. He could read the men. Even in the security of his office he was vulnerable, but he had to know more, and this was one of those times he was grateful for his gift.
    “Channing was a scientist. I’ve never heard of a Trevor Masters.” H shifted positions, casually angling his left side away from the agents to hide the coming color shift in that eye. He lowered the first of his guards. The peripheral view of his office changed, as if a pale blue sheer had dropped down. He reached out mentally to the men before him.
    Their thoughts wouldn’t become his unless he made a complete link. He only needed impressions at the moment, because he wasn’t going to risk being a tool in anyone’s kit again—willing or not.
    Neither of them radiated negativity or violence. Burgess’s emotions remained as steady as he did silent.
    Lawson nodded. Excitement and a sense of dread hummed around him. “During the course of a recent investigation, an expert listener analyzed a recording which mentioned you in regards to some work Mr. Harris was doing before his death.”
    “You could have led with that.” Not that he would tell them anything he hadn’t been willing to share with Max. “I’ve given you no reason to believe I would withhold information.”
    “Everyone withholds information.”
    “None more than the government.” His heart kicked with rage, but he suppressed the urge to show them the door. He would not move. He would not react. “Does this recording suggest what sort of danger I am in?”
    “We only know Mr. Harris was killed.”
    An unfortunately predictable confirmation. The only thing he’d worked on with Channing was the contacts. No one else had been involved, so how did Trevor Masters figure in? “And the Trevor Masters you mentioned?”
    Chills—relief—skated over him from Lawson.
    Lawson shifted his feet with a slight shuffle. “An attempt was made. He survived.”
    “Good. For him, as well as his family.”
    Lawson’s emotions reverberated through the room, bounced off the solid surfaces of doors, walls and windows, and settled inside H’s mind like an echoing greeting shouted across the Grand Canyon. A wave of profound peace and elation at the mention of Masters’s survival and his family. Interesting.
    He reengaged the barrier and moved to more fully face Lawson. Most government agents didn’t get so attached to their cases. “Now, if we could get back to your reason for coming… I’m late for an appointment.”
    “We would like to place someone here, in your lab, until we wrap the case up.”
    “For what purpose?”
    “Protection. Harris and Masters were targeted by a woman wearing DNA-based perfume. It short-circuited the self-preservation center of their brain and opened them up to suggestion.”
    “The perfume hypnotized them?” In some ways, science had made entirely too much advancement. But if they were right, Channing’s death finally made some sense. He wouldn’t have left Max or his love of research and development.
    Still, H didn’t need anyone else in his lab. Dana had been with him since the beginning. She had been subjected to the same tests as him. She was as capable of protecting herself as he was. Neither of them was susceptible to mind-altering substances.
    “Essentially. We have made arrests in the